by Td Barnes
“We know from Cesar their ingress and egress at the dam, so here is what we are going to do to buy time to gain Intel on these bastards. Ray, you and Sammie are going to set up your Grizzly somewhere where you can focus on their entrance to the dam without their knowing that you are there. Any time one of them tries to enter, you will zap enough to hurt him, but not kill him. The objective is not to let them know that they are under attack and to drive them away from the dam. We will force them to spread their Islamic rug with the Zombies for the upcoming winter. We will introduce those surviving the winter to their virgins when the radiation lifts enough that we can take care of business. That will also allow us time to locate their planes, pilots, and the big fish behind this attempt to take over Hoover Dam.”
Callahan asked, “Do you have any plans regarding future control of the dam?”
“That depends on how you find the situation. You will organize the support needed to keep the Grizzly crew safe, and if feasible, look at the dam to see what we can do to hold it out of the hands of this friggin politician and his Islamic goons.”
“My thoughts, sir. You would not know this, but the security of Hoover Dam was always one of our concerns as first responders. At one time, we even a SAM, surface-to-air missile site there to protect it from aerial attack. We should have a ton of information in the archive about our study of the dam for security purposes.”
“I didn’t find that when I looked, but because I didn’t know what I was looking for.
“Get some rest, sir. The information will be on your desk when you are ready for it.”
Bradley dismissed them and left the Command Center, but not to rest. He headed for the war center. Rest could wait—he had a war to conduct.
Callahan motioned for the others to stay. After Bradley left, Callahan asked Sammie, “Lieutenant, how soon can Ray and you deploy? Anyone still at the dam will expect the return of that trash out there and will expect the return of military vehicles. It will be our vehicles responding instead of theirs.”
“What is your timing, sir?”
“If your vehicle needs servicing, I suggest you hop to it. I’ll have a squad ready to accompany you within 30 minutes. This may be a siege situation, so prepare. I’ll take care of the chow and water.”
“Understood, sir. Will you be going, sir?
“Negative. Sergeant Griffin is commanding the squad. Griffin is combat tested, Lieutenant, so use this experience. Don’t bring our people home in body bags.”
Griffin, better known as “Spike” to his fellow soldiers was almost a caricature of a soldier commander—intense blue eyes, blond widow’s peak shaved high on the sides—and his personality mirrored the reputation of his aggressive, in-your-face, but also a precise approach to combat. He led his squadron, nicknamed the Avengers, with intellect and discipline. He was not the kind of boss you always felt at ease being around, but his troops loved serving under him.
Callahan stayed with the squadron as the soldiers prepared for their deployment. Lieutenant Bronson did not attempt to insert her superior rank in the unit’s preparations, letting Sergeant Griffin know right off that she depended upon his experience to direct the ground operation. Ray, the only civilian, deployed, and she would be responsible for operating the Grizzly, but in coordination with Sergeant Griffin’s instructions. When Griffin huddled his squadron to explain the mission, Ray and she joined to listen. Callahan had already briefed Griffin and listened to ensure that Griffin understood the mission.
“Listen up, troops. Our objective is to assist the lieutenant and Ray set up the Grizzly without anyone seeing us. Our mission is to get them in, cover them, and get them out undetected. Understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
The enemy is foreign Jihadists and most likely not that familiar with American military vehicles. They will be expecting the return of their guys out there, so we will wait until near sunset and drive right in as though we are their guys. The Cuban has told us where they parked their vehicles, so we will proceed to the parking lot and then fade into the darkness.”
While he spoke, Major Callahan stooped down, picked up a cardboard box, and handed to Griffin.
Griffin dug into the box and pulled out a hand full of the headgear worn by the dead Jihadists lying outside. He distributed them to the squadron and Ray, but not Sammie. “If you see anyone, put these on. Not you, Lieutenant. You are a cunt and must wear a burqa. The rest of us will be eating pork MREs, but we are feeding you a halal MRE.”
“Fuck you, Sergeant,” she said laughing with the others, not realizing this being the first time that she laughed since the loss of her mom.
Griffin produced a map of the El Dorado Valley that included Boulder City and the dam. The others crowded around to see. “This the Lake Mead bypass,” he said, pointing to a massive bridge spanning the Colorado River canyon. “This is the Mike O’Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge named after a politician and newspaper publisher, and that professional football player turned soldier killed in Afghanistan. It is 890 feet above the Colorado River, which makes it the second-highest span in the United States, and the world’s highest concrete arch bridge.”
Griffin pointed out the bridge having high sidewalls to prevent jumpers. We will be getting there early, and this wall will hide our vehicles while doing recon on the situation. We will be sitting 1,600 feet upstream of the dam itself, so it is doubtful that anyone would see us from the dam. I see each of you has your weapon. Everyone be sure you are wearing a dosimeter and monitor radiation levels wherever you are. Questions?”
Callahan said, “Remember that we have a mobile detail deployed to Mount Charleston. I do not expect that your paths will cross, but be careful. They will not be expecting to see you and may consider you as hostiles. We don’t want any friendly fire.”
“Yes, sir,” Sammie and Griffin each replied.
“Sir, is there a chance that those bastards out there might have air support checking on them? Sammie asked, indicating with a hand wave that she was referring to the Jihadist bodies lying outside the portal door.
“Good point, Lieutenant. We will post some air defense just in case. We will dig a pit to dispose of the bodies and park the JLTVs inside the mountain to avoid drawing attention to them still being here. Griffin, if you see any aircraft, put on your rags and wave like a friendly to make them think that you are their returning soldiers.”
Callahan peeked into each of the vehicles and turned towards Sammie and Griffin. “The detail that I mentioned is placing a radio repeater station on Mount Charleston. It will most likely be operational while you are out. We may want to contact you to test the setup, so radios on and monitoring 225.050 MHz. Your call sign will be Airborne 4. I doubt if anyone will be monitoring to hear us, but keep your transmissions brief and vague just in case. Pretend that you are airborne.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, do you realize that this will be my first time to key the mike on a military radio? We have maintained radio silence ever since I’ve been in the military.”
Callahan saw the squad off and returned to the north portal. He first stopped at the War Room where he asked the radio operator to monitor the HF frequency that he gave Sammie and Griffin and that the installation crew would use to check in. He expected to hear from the Mount Charleston detail in two hours if everything went well for them, which would be about the time the squadron would reach Las Vegas. Seeing that Bradley was not present in the alcove, he sat down in the radio room beside the radio operator, wanting to be present at the radios in case either party called in. From where he sat, he could see the meteorological station in the War Room where Mitchell stood in front of the big screen studying the latest weather data streaming onto the screen.
“Major,” Mitchell called to Callahan in the radio room. “You may want to see this.” He waited until Callahan joined him and then using his laser pointer, he pointed to an area of interest on the screen.
“It looks at this early stage of data that what we may b
e facing is a passing storm rather than the onset of a prolonged nuclear winter.” He traced a curving display on the screen. “This is the lower level jet stream. See how the atmospheric high is pushing it our way? I think it is going to cover us for a few days as the currents push into Mexico. The way it is shaping up, the storm will return to mid-Canada.”
Callahan studied the screen a moment longer. “So, you’re saying we will have a radiation storm, but it is not the return of winter.”
“. Nonetheless, we will see a moderate temperature drop and unsafe radiation levels for a few days, but it will pass.”
Callahan sat down, never taking his eyes off the streaming data. “Charlie,” he said. “What this information resource does for us is unfathomable. We can now plan strategically for everything. We can plan our agricultural activities as well as our military defense and offensive tactics.”
Mitchell sat down in a chair beside Callahan and joined him in watching the streaming data on the screen. “Colonel Bradley deserves the kudos on this. He initiated the cyber-warfare effort. While that didn’t pan out, it did locate the weather satellite that kicked off our meteorology program coming to fruit today.”
Callahan commented in a compassionate tone. “The loss of Stacey and all the others are hitting him hard. If that and the next bout of nuclear winter isn’t enough, now he has to lead us into a religious war.”
Mitchell glanced at him before returning his gaze to the screen. “You are right. You can paint it will all sorts of names in the interest of political correctness, but that does not change it from being a war against an Islamic enemy. We have one Muslim here inside the mountain that I know of. I wonder how that will play out.”
“That is true. He has already demonstrated having radical antiwar beliefs. I wonder if we are harboring any sleepers. We already know that the administration was pushing the hiring and acceptance of minority groups with emphasis on gays and those of the Muslim faith,” Callahan said. “I am comfortable with the loyalty of my troops, but I don’t know about those we are sheltering that the government considered essential. One has to ask if some were important to some politician getting reelected.”
Both looked up when they heard and saw Sarge run into the War Room to greet them. They knew Colonel Bradley would be close behind. He carried what was a photograph and, without uttering a word, sat it on his desk. The others joined to see what it was.
“Anytime anyone harbors doubts about the reason for our being at war; I want them to look at this. I want this mounted somewhere where everyone sees it when exiting and entering the mountain. He held up a collage containing facial photos of Stacey and all the others killed by the bomb at the south portal.
“Sir, Charlie has good news on the upcoming weather,” Callahan announced. Bradley accepted the briefing with little reaction or comment. He asked about any contact yet with the Mount Charleston detail or any word concerning Sammie’s squad headed to the dam—both now being his primary concerns.
“Is everyone decent?” Colonel Barlow called to announce her entrance into the War Room. Following her were a radio operator bringing lunch to the operator on duty, and four children in their early teens each carrying a tray of food for Bradley, Callahan, Mitchell, and herself. “I knew you wouldn’t leave the radios and needed an excuse to join you, so I bought lunch,” she said.
They finished their lunch and making small talk when they heard the squelch break coming from the radio room.
“We have a squelch break,” the radio operator called out. All of them rushed to the radio room where they stood waiting.
“CQ, CQ, CQ. This is WA5JGL calling CQ.”
“That is them,” Callahan exclaimed.
“WA5JGL, this is K6GBM, Kilo Six Juliett, Golf Mike, back at you.”
“Roger, K6GBM. How do you read?”
“Five by five.”
Callahan glanced at Bradley, both realizing that if someone were listening, it would not make sense for ham radio operators to be exchanging the message that needed to be sent to the detail on the mountain.
Before they could say anything further, they heard the ding of an electronic alarm coming from Mitchell’s equipment in the War Room.
“That will be the camera system,” Mitchell said. They rushed into the War Room where they saw on a computer screen a high-resolution image of the Las Vegas Valley and on a second computer screen, an image of the north portal of the mountain.
“Major, I think the odds of the enemy picking up our radio transmissions are slim,” said Bradley to convey his willingness to transmit openly without the pretense of this being two amateur radio operators chatting. Callahan nodded his agreement.
“Spike, this Six Actual. Can you go encrypted?”
“Affirmative, sir. We’ll give it a try.”
Switching to encrypted transmission changed the tone a bit, but the communications remained audible. Callahan briefed Sergeant Griffin on the attack at the mountain and advised him that Lieutenant Bronson’s squad was en route to the dam.”
“Spike, Lieutenant Bronson is using the callsign Airborne 4. They plan to surveil the situation from the Hoover Dam bypass bridge. Can you focus your camera on it?”
“Sir, suggest you try out the remote from your location. If you can do it, we have done our job here.”
Mitchell sat down in front of the camera remote where two twist-action controls wirelessly controlled the azimuth and elevation of the camera’s aim. They all watched on the screen while he skillfully turned the camera until the bridge came in sight., only a few vehicles been abandoned not the bridge during the EMP attack and he located Sammie’s squad parked on the bridge overlooking the dam. Pushing the ETC, electronic throttle control, he zoomed the camera until they could see the back of Sammie’s Kevlar while she looked down on the dam using her binoculars.
With slight changes, the camera looked down onto the dam. He scanned the camera over the parking lot where the Jihadists accumulated an assortment of military vehicles. They counted four Jihadists at what were guard posts, but otherwise, the dam appeared unoccupied.
Bradley went to the entrance of the War Room and called to the duty officer. “Get me, Oquendo.”
Oquendo arrived with an escort a few minutes later. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the computer screen. “Si, Senor, that is it,” he said. “The elevators do not work. We used the stairs.” He pointed out the location of the stairs.
Bradley dismissed Oquendo and turned to Callahan. “See if you can raise the squad.”
Callahan called to the radio operator to bring him a headset with enough cord to allow him to operate the radio from the computer located in the War Room.
“Airborne 4, this is the base.” They could see the surprise on Sammie and the others’ faces when they heard the radio. The resolution was good enough that they could see the soldier lower the volume of their radio.
“Base, Airborne 4.”
“Be advised that the base has visual. Your target is the stairs. Can you see them from your location?”
“Affirmative on target.” Realizing that Callahan a visual on her, she motioned that they were going to test the Grizzly from their current location.
“Affirmative,” he said to let Sammie know that he understood her visual message. “Base out.”
The angle of the camera was such that Mitchell could zoom out a bit and see both the target and the squad. From the mountain, they watched as the squad, and she fired up the Grizzly to test its effectiveness from the bridge location. Sammie used hand gestures to keep them informed of her actions. They could see when she was ready to test the system. She turned in the direction of Mount Charleston, where she anticipated to the camera to be and made a gesture of holding her fingers apart to indicate a small test.
At first, the Jihadist guards did not show any effect from the beams of the Grizzly, but as Sammie increased the power, they showed confusion and discomfort. They felt their faces, and then other parts of their body as the skin
heated. A bit more and they started looking for the cause, looking around and up, each focusing on the large electric power lines spanning the Colorado River from the turbines at the bottom of the dam to destinations unknown. She continued increasing the power until the guards found it unbearable to remain outdoors and disappeared into the stairway of the dam.
They watched Sammie and the squad laughing as they tormented the enemy. Three of the guards went into the dam when she shut down the Grizzly, leaving one guard outdoors to witness the heat ceasing on his skin. He looked puzzled as he looked around hoping to see what caused the discomfort. After a bit, he entered the stairwell and returned a moment later with the other three guards.
“Well done,” Callahan transmitted to the squad. Keying the mike again, he communicated to the Mount Charleston detail, “It is a go, Spike.”
“Roger. Headed home.”
The camera remained focused on the squadron and the dam. Sammie made motions to indicate that they planned to stay there for the night.
“The Lieutenant and Sergeant Griffin know what they must do,” Callahan said. “Sir,” he addressed Bradley but included Colonel Barlow and Mitchell. I suggest we install remote monitors and controls for the camera in the radio room for the radio operator to monitor and operate full time.”
On the bridge, Sergeant Griffin continued watching the guards through his binoculars while Sammie dismounted from the vehicle. He laughed. “LT, you need to see this. Those ragheads are still jabbering to one another, wondering what the fuck happened.”
Sammie laughed at the thought. “Fellows, we’re here for more than giving the guards a free suntan. We need to know how many are in that rat hole and who they are. We will stay until we are aware and then we will send them packing. Sergeant Griffin, there are only two ways to access our location, and that is at each end of this long sucker. The bridge extends a good half-mile or more towards Arizona. Have a couple of the guys block the Arizona side by pushing together some of the stranded vehicles. We can see anyone approaching from the Nevada side, so one sentry should do. We’ll disperse tonight and get a good night's sleep.”
