by Warren Ray
Chapter 46
Grosse Pointe Michigan
Floodlights lit up the parking lot where fighters were preparing to board their assigned buses. There was an eerie ambiance as the men moved around maintaining a silence broken only by the occasional acknowledgment to a superior. The rustling of clothing and the clanging of weapons further added to the eeriness.
Off to the side was a table with a large map of Jackson. It was marked to show the areas of Mordulfah’s men and the National Police. Red lines had been drawn to indicate where they would enter the town.
Mordulfah watched with his arms crossed over his chest, and doing his best to control his natural instinct to be in command. He was heeding his uncles’ advice and allowed Colonel Khan to take charge of the invasion he had planned while in route to Grosse Pointe. It was a solid plan, and he was sure of success. By afternoon, he would have Winters and the rest of his rebels either dead or held prisoners. His one demand was to capture Winters, alive. A picture of him had been circulated to enable the request.
Khan signaled his captains to join him at the table and included Captain Vatter of the National Police.
“As you all know we have sent advance strike teams to sneak across the border and clear out a path for our main forces. Since Prince Mordulfah’s men were attacked here yesterday,” he said pointing to the Proving Grounds, “it is only natural that we would still have men in the area, which will camouflage our advance strike team and not raise an alarm. Those men will attack the rebels’ guard posts here and here, thus eliminating their ability to communicate any advanced warning.
They will then proceed to the hospital and start a covert attack just as we are taking our positions. Khan looked up at Vatter. “This is the route Captain Vatter’s men took when they attacked the hospital, is that correct?.”
Vatter nodded. “As long as you come in from this field you’ll be alright.”
“The hospital is where their men sleep, and it will be our first target. A surprise assault will throw them into chaos and scatter their forces. Our second strike team will come down Lansing Road where the rebels have been using the men stationed there for target practice. We will take out that guard post and cut off the possibility of using that escape route. The third will come down Business 127. Once we hit the hospital, we will then flood the town with our men from the north and the west forcing them to the south where Captain Vatter will be waiting for them.”
All eyes turned to Vatter who forced himself to control his joy. He had hoped not to be included in the main assault but rather be waiting in the wings. He had already given his men strict instructions not to put themselves in any unnecessary danger. Despite his hatred for rebels, he had a profound respect for their capabilities, so had taken some precautions.
Too many of his men had already died at their hands, and he couldn’t risk losing too many more. He would rather have his men be in a defensive position than going house to house. That was risky for his untrained men. Besides, he could get first dibs on any women that came through there. He already had plans to move any captured women out of the area as quickly as possible.
Khan looked at his captains. “We strike hard and fast. Remember, we have superior numbers and with our grenade launchers, the day will be ours. Praise be Allah.”
“Praise be Allah,” they responded.
* * * * *
Thomas watched in vain, as the vehicles began pulling out of the parking lot to head to Jackson. His stomach turned in knots because he didn’t expect them to be leaving so soon. He had figured, incorrectly that he’d be able to sneak out today to warn the Shadow Patriots. As it was, Mordulfah needed him to be at his beck and call and wasn’t able to slip away.
He turned and saw the prince had a slight smile on his face. He had never seen him smile before and it sent a shiver down his spine. The prince was confident of success. He wished he hadn’t waited and should have known that they’d leave right away. Colonel Khan had insisted because he wasn’t sure if the rebels were spying on them. Of course, he was right, but not in the way he thought he was. He was afraid that they had spies watching the grounds and would notice new fighters coming in. Little did he know there was a spy in their midst.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t a good spy because he had failed to raise the alarm. Perhaps, he could still help the Shadow Patriots if any of them became prisoners. For now, all he could do is pray for their safety.
Chapter 47
Jackson Michigan
Bassett rolled out of bed, ready to cross enemy lines once again. Only this time, he would take one of their police cruisers and plenty of gear. Yesterday’s fiasco was an embarrassment which unfortunately happens all too often in war. Not all missions can go your way. However, it was the second mission that had failed over the past few days. He could only laugh at himself. He’d make up for it with this next one. He and Burns were going to spend the day looking for those supply trucks and hijack them.
He headed to the cafeteria and found Burns sitting with Scar and a fresh pot of coffee.
“Didn’t think you’d be up,” said Bassett as he grabbed the coffee decanter
“Yeah, I didn’t think so either,” said a worried Scar.
Bassett sat down and took a sip of coffee before biting into a muffin. He washed it down with another sip. “How’d it go last night?”
Scar briefed them on the successful crossing and the taking down of the Jijis. Bassett nodded in satisfaction but had the same concerns about why the Jijis would take off like they did.
“They had no problems coming after us in the Proving Grounds,” said Bassett.
“Yeah, they were all over the place,” said Burns.
“Something has changed that’s for sure.”
Burns took a sip of coffee and said. “Pretend inferiority and encourage arrogance.”
“More Sun Tzu?” asked Bassett.
Burns nodded.
Scar leaned back in his chair. The quote made a lot of sense considering the way the Jijis ran away after they opened fire. Perhaps Mordulfah was using his defeats as a way to lull his enemy into arrogance and a lax attitude.
“You think Mordulfah has given up?” asked Bassett
“No, I don’t think so. This guy is too proud for that,” said Scar.
“He can’t be used to losing,” said Bassett.
“No, he can’t.”
“He’ll probably go and hire experienced fighters,” said Burns.
“Yeah, maybe. Hopefully, Thomas will be able to report in soon,” said Scar.
Bassett took the last sip of his coffee and stood up. “As soon as we cross over, we’ll radio in, but it’ll be hours before those supply trucks come by.”
Scar nodded. “Are you going to hit the drivers before they deliver or find out where they come from?”
“Not sure yet,” said Bassett.
Burns stood up. “I’d kinda like to see where they go to get more supplies. Could be a bigger score.”
Scar nodded in agreement. “Push come to shove you can at least hit the evening delivery.”
“Exactly,” said Burns.
“We need to get going,” said Bassett.
The three walked out to the parking lot where their cruiser was waiting for them. Bassett had packed it last night with everything they would need for their extended mission.
Bassett and Burns shook Scar’s hand.
“See you guys later tonight,” said Scar.
“Hopefully with a rack of lamb,” smiled Burns.
“Just don’t forget the mint jelly,” retorted Scar.
Bassett started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. They were at the border in good time and he parked the cruiser so they could reconnoiter Manchester Road. It had only been a day since their encounter with the Jijis, and they may very well have tightened their security.
They broke through the foliage and Bassett raised the night-vision binoculars and noted the Jijis hadn’t moved their guard post any closer together.
Bassett shook his head and handed the glasses to Burns.
“You’d think they’d be changing their strategy,” said Burns.
“You’d think.”
They got back in the cruiser, crossed the Jiji border on Manchester Road, and headed to Parker Road in Dexter, Michigan. This road went over the interstate but didn’t have any access ramps to it. The area was an ideal place to keep an eye on the delivery trucks from a distance and still be able to leave in time to catch up with them down the road.
Bassett parked the squad car on top of the overpass not too worried about being spotted, seeing as how it was a cop car. Burns had been scanning the police radio band to see if he could pick up any chatter from the cops, but heard none. It wasn’t too unusual, as it was early in the morning and they didn’t start using the radios before the sun came up. Ever since they confiscated the squad cars, they had been monitoring the radios for any morsel of information. Every once in a while, they’d catch a gem, but for the most part, it was routine and boring stuff. The cops knew they had the radios and didn’t use them as they typically would.
They’d been sitting there for nearly an hour when Burns spotted a set of headlights coming from the east.
“Heads up,” said Burns.
“What do we have here?” asked Bassett lifting up the binoculars. “There’s just one.”
“Yep.”
It took a minute before a passenger van drove under the overpass. They immediately scooted over to the other side to look at it.
“Whaddya think?” asked Burns.
“I don’t know. Maybe replacements.”
“Strange hour to be replacing men,” said Burns.
“Yes, it is.”
Bassett picked up the radio to call out to the nearest guard post but got no answer.
“We’re too far away,” said Burns.
“Yeah, I know. Just thought sitting this high up and the night air might improve our range.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“Yeah, but still, I’ve never seen them moving around at this hour before.”
“Me either, but then maybe its because we got into the firefight with them.”
“Maybe,” said Bassett. He let go of the binoculars unsatisfied with guesses but had no other choice. They had a mission to complete and needed to concentrate on that. If all went well, they’d be able to bring back needed supplies.
Over the next hour, they watched the skies to the east begin to light up as the sun was breaking over the horizon. Bassett put away the night vision binoculars and broke out the regular ones. He handed Burns a pair and reached into his bag for a couple of power bars.
“Oh damn,” yelled Burns.
Bassett’s heart started racing when he raised the glasses and saw a convoy of vehicles coming toward them. Bus after bus came in his vision as well as pick up trucks filled with armed uniformed men. These men were different, and they were not coming to guard the town. They were going to attack it. Bassett’s mind flipped into hyper-drive thinking of his options. They were too far away to warn Scar. There was just one option left.
“Our mission has changed. Let’s get ‘em out,” ordered Bassett.
Chapter 48
Dexter Michigan
Bassett grabbed the M4’s sitting in the backseat and handed one to Burns. While he would have liked to give Scar a heads-up, it was more important to take out what they could to lighten the load on the town.
“Let’s take out what we can and get the hell out of here,” said Bassett.
Burns checked his weapon. “I’ll take the other side. Let the first two buses pass through.”
Bassett nodded as Burns scooted across to the other side. Bassett leaned against the concrete barrier and peeked over to see the massive convoy getting closer.
This was it.
This is what they had been expecting all week, and it was finally here. He had been warning all the guard posts to stay alert. He just hoped they had paid attention and would do what they were supposed to do.
Bassett figured the convoy was full of soldiers from the Middle East. Soldier was a bit of a misnomer when it came to fighters from that part of the world. He’d seen them before when he had fought in the Middle East. Most weren’t the best fighters, but some of them were quite good having filtered in from the many different armies. There was no reason to think Mordulfah would import more incompetent fighters like the ones he’d been using. He’d spend the money and bring in the best.
The noise from the engines grew louder as they closed in on the overpass. Bassett rose his head up as the first bus drove under the bridge and then the second.
“Here they come,” he yelled.
The third bus was closing in when Bassett stood up brandishing his Colt M4. The driver’s eyes zeroed in on him, and his face betrayed a split second of surprise. Bassett gritted his teeth and squeezed the trigger.
The staccato gunfire echoed in the crisp morning air. The big windshield on the bus spider-webbed with cracks splitting off in a hundred directions as the rounds blew holes through it. Blood splattered on the glass as the bus swerved toward the median picking up speed. It crashed into the guardrail shooting sparks into the air as it plowed through the metal barrier. Bassett lost sight but heard it crash into the pylon.
Bassett lit up the next bus, but it had slowed down giving him more time to kill the driver and anyone else sitting in the first few rows. He slammed in a fresh magazine and sprayed the top of the bus peppering it with holes. He wanted to do as much damage as he could before they organized and returned fire.
The convoy came to a stop as men began to pour out the back of the buses and took up positions. Bassett watched their movements as he popped in his third magazine. These guys weren’t panicking and were methodical with their positioning. These guys were the real deal.
On the other side of the bridge, Burns lit up the first two buses with an initial salvo. He then began moving down the overpass to get a better angle on them, as they continued on the interstate. He sprayed the sides of both buses ripping bullets into them, but unsure of how many he was hitting. His goal was to make as many holes in the bus as possible before it got out of range.
Down below a Jiji carrying an M320 Grenade Launcher ran from the relative safety of the bridge to get an angle on the men above. The launcher was a single-shot 40mm and had an effective range of 150 meters. It could do significant damage if used correctly. Holding the launcher at his waist, he stopped and pointed it up at the overpass. Burns recognized the weapon and dropped to his knees as he yelled at Bassett to get down. The grenade flew up and over the bridge dropping down to the interstate on the other side. The explosion took out everyone who had climbed out of the crashed bus. It was an ill-advised desperate move as the grenade took out the wrong people.
Burns jumped up to see the man reloading the weapon. He raised his own and shot him dead. He cautiously looked down to see men bleeding out on the ground.
Bassett continued firing as Burns hunched over to join him.
“Some have already peeled off into the woods,” said Bassett. “We got maybe another thirty seconds before they’ve flanked us.”
Bullets began hitting the bridge throwing rock chips up in the air. They both kept their heads down as the rounds continued pounding the bridge. Burns motioned to the car, and Bassett nodded. They were crawling toward it when they heard the distinctive firing sound of an RPG. This would be aimed better and much deadlier than the previous grenade. They hurried to the cruiser and reached it as the round hit their last position. The thunderous explosion shook the bridge as debris shot out in different directions raining down on them.
They climbed into the car and Bassett started the engine. He looked in the rearview mirror and didn’t like what he saw. There was too much debris scattered across the road, and he didn’t want to risk a blown tire.
Not here. Not now.
So, he threw the car into drive and stomped on the pedal. The car zoomed across the o
verpass to the north.
Going this way was putting them further out of radio range and away from Jackson. Bassett knew the area and the route he had in mind was longer but safer.
“Bastards have stepped up their game,” said Burns
“Yeah, they have, and these guys are professionals. They moved into position in quick order and didn’t panic.”
“Except for the one dumbass that tried to lob up a grenade. It took out half a dozen of his own guys.”
“That was stupid.”
“I’m sure I took out close to half of them in those two buses.”
“We slowed the bastards down,” said Bassett.
“Where’re we headed?”
“Up and around the town of Chelsea. This beast needs big roads so we’ll stay on the main ones and then come down Lansing Road where Eddie is.”
Bassett didn’t want to take chances on any of the smaller roads, many of which were dirt with rocks, which could penetrate a tire especially at the speed he was pushing the cruiser. The route he was taking was out of the way, but the speedometer was topping a hundred, which would make up for the longer distance. They would still be behind enemy lines, but that could be a tactical advantage, at least he hoped it would be.
Chapter 49
Colonel Khan looked up at the smoldering overpass and saw a car pull away. His nostrils flared at the thought of those cowardly infidels leaving without giving his men a chance to fight them. Like vermin, they struck while hiding behind a concrete barrier. They didn’t dare come face to face with his men.
He looked around at the carnage. Men were bleeding and sobbing for help. Dead bodies lay near the crashed bus. He stepped toward the back of the second bus and looked inside to see more of his men lying dead.