Rand punched the sandbags to her left. “Fine. I get it. They’re coming no matter what. So why not just retreat then? Let’s find somewhere better to fight. We could fall back to High Springs and fight them in the streets.”
She turned to the silent sheriff of High Springs. Colonel Brown was in overall command of their coalition militia, but the grey-haired police chief had supplied most of the personnel. One word from Greene and the tenuous chain of command would collapse.
“Worst case scenario, we can evacuate your town to our commune, Sheriff. I’m sure we can figure out a way to hold the enemy off at the Suwannee River.”
The old cop set his jaw. “No, I think the colonel’s right. It’s less than four miles from DHS lines to High Springs. They’d be on us before we could get the first bus out.”
Dixon nudged Rand’s knee. “Don’t forget the larger picture. If you want to build a real confederacy and get all the other towns involved in collective defense, then we have to prove that we’ll defend every homestead like it was our own. We can’t pick and choose.”
Rand chewed her lips. “Okay. Let’s take a vote—”
Brown pounded his fist so hard the map table collapsed.
“Since when is this a fucking committee meeting? You put me in charge for a reason. If we try to hole up in town, Heinrich’s forces will just surround us, lay siege and finish us off at their leisure. We don’t have time for this shit. Quit micro-managing like a politician and let me and my troops do our Goddamn jobs!” Brown looked away and began shouting orders into his secure radio.
Rand sprang to her feet. Dixon lunged for her before she could slap the militia leader, but she surprised him again by sitting back down. She didn’t say a word until Brown clicked off his handheld radio.
“Ok, Colonel. You were right and I was wrong. I’ll stay out of your way, but is there anything I can do to help?”
Brown fidgeted under her gaze before sliding off his cap and scratching his flattop. “Damn it, I’m not used to civilian leadership being able to swallow their egos. You aren’t supposed to cooperate!” He chuckled and put his hand on Rand’s shoulder.
“Just get back to the commune and start spreading the word to the other towns for help. Make sure they know that they’re next if we fall. Even if we fail here, we’ll buy you as much time as possible.”
Rand slapped her knees and stood up, but Brown slid his hand to her back and whispered in her ear. “If you don’t hear a situation report from one of us within two hours, start evacuating the, uh…”
She patted his cheek. “I’ll get your family out of there.” She held her head up and stared at the militiamen around the makeshift headquarters. “I’ll get all your people somewhere safe, but don’t worry about that now. Go kick some ass!”
Dixon began to follow her out, but Brown whistled at him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m a medic, Colonel. I have a feeling it’s going to be a busy night.”
“You’re sure right about that, but we can’t afford such luxuries as medics right now. Every man’s a rifleman tonight. Now you’ve fought these bastards, but haven’t been through our infantry course. I’d say you’re the perfect candidate to carry this…”
Brown dragged out a pair of cylinder tanks strapped together from behind a sandbag wall. Dixon whooped and hefted the gas nozzle and crude trigger running from a hose to the backpack. “Hells yeah! How long have we had flamethrowers?”
Colonel Brown’s lip curled, the closest thing to a smile Dixon had ever seen him give. “Technically, this just shoots homemade napalm and ignites it, but same difference. Private Heiko whipped it up for us. You only have ten seconds of spray time, but that should be enough to clear the bunker complex. Assuming we can get you past the machine gun nests. Hey Heiko!” He barked at a large man running past, an M-16 dangling from his hand like a child’s water pistol.
Dixon dropped the weapon’s grip. “Bunkers and machine guns? What the hell are you talking about?”
Brown ignored him as Heiko trotted up. “Private, show Dixon here how to use your contraption. He’s now assigned to your platoon. Lieutenant Owen will brief you on the assault plan. Semper Fi!”
Heiko hefted the jury-rigged flamethrower and shook his head at Dixon.
“I’m sorry they chose you. Man, who’d you piss off?”
Outside of Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
Eastern bank of the Red Sea
Despite the starless night, Kat spotted the twin inflatable speedboats long before she could hear their shielded engines over the surf. As soon as they washed up on the beach, Kat tried to rise. The prince rested a tender hand on her shoulder. Kat smiled back at him in the darkness. She couldn’t help but feel touched that he’d taken the time to see her off in person.
“Not yet. Please, don’t make a scene. Let us verify the payment first and then you’re free to go.”
“What?” Kat reeled and balled her fists.
The crown prince wasn’t the type to hold a gun to a lady’s head. He let his ten bodyguards handle such uncouth duties. Kat ignored the rustling AK-47’s in the dark and sneered at the local warlord.
“So now I’m a hostage? What’s this shit all about? What happened to all your freedom preaching?”
Saud bin Salman sighed through the darkness. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the naïve sort, Kat. I might be new to war, but I’ve studied military history all my academic life. You’re an extremely valuable military asset, and we’re trading you for something even more valuable. I hope so, at least. I do wonder if we received the best deal, since the Americans agreed so quickly. They paid up without even trying to bargain.”
Kat studied the camouflaged newcomers as they hauled crates off the boats. One of the shadows in the boats swiveled what had to be a Gatling gun her way. Judging from his dead-on aim, he must be wearing night vision sights. The stranger barked with a Scottish flair.
“What are yeh waiting on? Yah show me Sar’geant Kat alive ‘n well or I’ll show yah the inside of this b’stard’s head!”
A silhouette stumbled out of the lead boat and faced the insurgents on the beach. One of the British soldiers yanked a sack off his head and nudged him forward, but left on the zip-cuffs pinning his hands behind his back. At the same time, the prince touched Kat’s arm and whispered in her ear.
“Start walking and don’t stop until your feet get wet. For what it’s worth, I hope God stays with you on whatever mission they need you so badly for. You’ll be in my prayers.”
Kat’s scowl deepened as she passed the other prisoner in their little exchange. She recognized that famous, wizened face. The son of a bitch was one of the most influential Wahhabi preachers around and one of the most adept and experienced guerrilla leaders still alive. He had been slated to take over the Yemeni branch of Al Qaeda before the CIA located him. Kat even knew one of the two Navy SEALs that died capturing him last year.
She didn’t have much time to seethe over the insanity though. As soon as her boots splashed the water, one of the strange soldiers patted her down. Quite thoroughly. Kat understood the standard procedure for ensuring that insurgents didn’t sneak in a suicide bomber under the guise of a prisoner swap, but she still bristled at his far too intimate introduction.
“Sergeant Walker, I’m Leftenant Myers with Her Majesty’s Special Air Services. We’ve been ordered to get you out of here and back to the Green Zone. Do you need medical attention?”
Kat yanked his thumb out of the waistband of her underwear and jabbed a finger at the bearded man they just released. “No, but whoever let that psychopathic terrorist out of Guantanamo Bay could use their head examined…”
She trailed off as she got a better look at the green crates the soldiers tossed ashore. There must have been twenty or so of the latest American-made anti-tank and anti-aircraft missiles in the stack. The Brits kept piling millions of dollars in high-tech ordinance on the beach. Since when did her life become so valuable?
Before she could grumble any further, the SAS team tossed her on their boats, gunned the engines and raced towards open water. Less than a kilometer out, a giant water moccasin reared out of the placid Red Sea ahead. Without speaking a word, Asian sailors in odd uniforms clambered out of the submarine’s hatches and tossed down lines to the British extraction team.
Ninety seconds later, Kat sat fuming and drying off in some officer’s lounge inside the sub. Two of the SAS men stood guard outside the room while the boat tilted 45 degrees and dived deep. Some authority figure chirped orders in Chinese over the ship’s intercom. She just shook her head and flipped a bird at the oversized, framed portrait of Chairman Mao hanging overhead.
Kat could only laugh as the cabin hatch swung open without a knock. The last person she ever expected to see stepped in and offered her a cup of coffee.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. John Smith, my favorite civilian contractor. Somehow, seeing you behind all this craziness is the only thing that makes any sense.”
Smith beamed and set down a digital recorder. “Oh, I’m merely a details guy. Just a hyped-up concierge. One that was never here, by the way. Matter of fact, the order to extract you at any price came straight from General Jacobi.” He nodded at her blank stare.
“Right, you’ve been out of the loop. Jacobi’s the acting president of the United States. Impressive guy. He’s survived in that position for an entire week already. None of the twenty or so other presidents we’ve sworn in since the invasion began lasted even 12 hours. But most importantly, General Jacobi is the supreme allied commander of the resistance. In other words, commander in chief of Earth’s unified military forces. At least what’s left of them. There’s time for a history lesson later, but first we need to debrief. Quite a few powerful people are waiting anxiously to hear about your adventures.”
Kat savored the steaming coffee while eyeing the spook coldly. “Slow your roll. This doesn’t make any sense. Why all this fuss over little ol’ me? Not that I’m ungrateful, but why are you expending so many resources just to save one grunt while the whole planet’s going to shit?”
Smith’s perpetual grin grew even wider. “Because, Sergeant, of all the millions of people the enemy has taken into their camps, you’re the first to come out alive. Even more stunning, you somehow brought dozens with you. Of course, what we’re really interested in is the fact that you’re the only human being who has ever been inside one of the alien ships and lived to tell the tale.”
“So what? I was wounded and knocked out immediately. I didn’t really see anything. There’s not much to tell. As for the escape, I wound up getting God knows how many killed just so a handful could escape. Not my proudest moment. I’d rather not talk about that.”
Smith stopped smiling for the first time since, well, ever. “You don’t seem to understand that anyone escaping from the aliens, no matter the circumstances, is the most encouraging news we’ve heard since the shit hit the fan. To be frank, we’ve been getting our asses handed to us since day one, and much of the coalition just wants to call it quits. Every day the calls to surrender and salvage what we can grow louder.”
Kat wouldn’t meet his gaze. Smith sighed and rested a hand on hers. “You also misunderstand the most important point. I’m not interested in your factual report, but in the narrative you weave. Look, it’s real simple. Jacobi wants to organize a worldwide counterattack while we still can. The centerpiece of his strategy is capturing one of the alien motherships that recently landed in Israel. We’re putting a top-notch force together, including your old team. If we can take that ship, then we can turn the tide of this war, but too many of our allies are convinced it’s a suicide mission.”
“Probably because it is a one-way ticket. Look what happened the last time we went after a simple dropship! Wait… let me guess; you want me to take point on this Hail Mary play?”
“That’s right, Sergeant. You’re our ace in the hole.”
Kat dropped her head into her lap and laughed away the tears. “God almighty. You realize we’re screwed then, right?”
Smith turned off the recorder and deleted what he had. Kat didn’t glance at the script he slid over the table. “You might be right, but that’s no way for a hero to talk. And a hero is exactly what we need. More so than a victory, at this point. The resistance has stockpiled the manpower and the weapons we need to strike back, but that means nothing without hope. So let’s start over.”
He cleared his throat. “So again, Sergeant, after you destroyed six alien drones in close combat, what happened next?”
Part III
“The kings came and fought… near the waters of Megiddo. They took no plunder in silver. Even the stars fought from heaven, from their courses they fought against Sisera.”
—Judges 5:19, 20
Day Twenty-Three
Camp “Victory”
University of Alexandria, Northern Egypt
“So, the debriefing report says you met a doctor during your imprisonment. Can you recall any vital signs she took? Did she perform any blood tests? Were you exposed to anyone exhibiting signs of a fever? Did you—”
Kat leaned back on the exam table and covered her face, but the doctor kept shotgunning questions. “Doc, I’ve spent the last three days being cross-examined by every surviving intel weenie and politician on the planet. I’ve had all of ten minutes R&R with my old team. This is supposed to be a simple examination to make sure I’m fit for duty. You know damn well I’m good to go, so how about we hurry this along?”
The doctor jotted down a long note without glancing up at her. He rolled his stool to the other end of the room. An army of lab assistants, scientists, psychiatrists and assorted other eggheads whispered in a huddle. Kat shook her arm and jangled the IV taped to her vein.
“Hey! Am I boring you people? I think that’s enough. What’s with all the blood you’re taking anyway?”
The oldest doctor licked his lips and stood up. “You tell me. I’ve drained you of two quarts already and you aren’t even dizzy. What did they inject you with?”
“Hell if I know. Some space-age medicine, I suppose. I’m just a grunt who’s been running a good luck deficit for too long. It’s your job to figure that other stuff out.”
“So you really don’t know?”
“Doc, I don’t have time for these games.”
He popped out the needle, but didn’t bother with a bandage. Her body already sealed off the puncture wound and stemmed the blood loss instantly. He just shrugged and waved her over to an electron microscope. “Do you know what those are?”
Kat’s skin crawled as she leaned against the eyepiece and studied the tiny robots.
“This type of technology used to be science fiction, but you’re living proof it can work.”
“That what works? Quit teasing me already.”
“Nanobots. Molecular level, self-replicating machines. Your blood is swarming with them. From what I’ve read in the report, you would have been dead several times over without them.”
Kat’s blood level finally dropped. The doctor reached out and steadied her as she went pale and collapsed into a chair. “Wait, wait. Why would the aliens hook me up with something like this? Are you saying I’m invincible?”
The doctor sat on the edge of the table and massaged his hands. “Not quite. We’ll need years to study these things before we could hope to reproduce them, but we can observe the basics right here. While they multiply exponentially to repair a wound, there’s a huge die off after each injury response. Far more nanites are sacrificed to heal an injury than are replicated in response, so the self-healing factor is limited. Which makes sense. Otherwise, your metabolism would be constantly fluctuating. You’d likely suffer debilitating blood clots too…”
“Okay, okay, so what the hell does this mean in practice?”
The doctor raised an eyebrow at his team of assistants. One of them pointed at a computer screen monitoring some experiment.
“Take a look. We pu
t together a little cocktail of E. Coli, Anthrax and MERS bacteria. Now we’re injecting the solution into one of your blood samples. You don’t have to be a biologist to appreciate the results.”
The nanobots scrambled, multiplied exponentially and annihilated every last bacterium. The microbial war lasted mere seconds.
“Since we’re already fighting aliens, think of it like extra lives in a video game.”
“Is that your scientific explanation? Jesus! If this is standard first aid for the enemy, how the hell can we beat them?”
The doctor smiled for the first time. “I’m just a quack, remember? You’re the soldier. That’s your job to figure out.”
Kat leaned forward with her hands on her knees, trying to steady her spinning head. “Touché. Okay, so how many more lives do I still have?”
The doctor scratched at his poorly trimmed beard. “No way to tell. Maybe ten, maybe none. Like I said, how fast the nanobots are used up depends on the extent of the wound. Just try not to get hurt until we can study this further.”
Kat snorted, but the door swung open and cut her short. Captain Dore flashed her a wide grin.
“No rest for the wicked. We’re starting the big briefing in the main auditorium right now. We’re wheel’s up in six hours.”
“Hooah, boss.” Kat forced herself up, sudden adrenaline soothing her nerves, but the doctor squeezed her hand.
“Just one more pint of blood to study, please. Won’t take but a moment.”
“What, you don’t think I’m coming back?”
The doctor said nothing and avoided eye contact while he added another collection bag to the IV line. The rest of the medical staff wouldn’t look at her either.
The Caliphate Invasion Page 25