by Warren Ray
He watched in horror as a rocket raced across the sky and exploded right where Hollis was shooting. Nordell grabbed his binoculars to see if there were any survivors but there was too much smoke to see what was left of the sniper’s nest. He called out to them on the radio. “Hollis, come in, come in.” Nothing. “Can anyone see anything? Where did it come from?”
His old friend Bobby answered. “I see ‘em, Nick. They’re up the street on top of the building across from the train station.”
Nordell knew the building. It was four stories high with a direct line of sight to where Hollis was positioned. “Take ‘em out, Bobby. Take ‘em out.”
Gunfire erupted across the street from a building that was blocking Nordell’s view of the Jijis. Nordell had to control his temper at Bobby and his squad because it was only six hundred yards away and they should have seen them. He then remembered the building had two levels allowing them to not only come in unseen but also be shielded from gunfire. These guys were smart picking this building and could now aim for Bobby’s position with little worry.
“Bobby get out of there. I repeat, get out of there,” yelled Nordell into the radio. His rapid pulse was going to give him a heart attack. Then Bobby called back.
“We’re out. We can’t get at ‘em anyway.”
“Get out of that building and fall back.”
“Ten-four.”
Nordell ran down the stairs two steps at a time. He needed to take care of this personally. He ran out onto the street just as another RPG exploded. It was Bobby’s location, which was a good sign because he had at least a ten-second head start. He reached for his radio. “You still with me, Bobby?”
“We’re good.”
“Everyone?”
“Yep.”
“Meet me around back. I’m coming in. We need to take these guys out.”
It was four hundred yards to where the Jijis fired the RPG and Nordell wanted to save his strength. So, he hopped in his truck and after finagling his way through one of the blocked off bridges drove over to Bobby’s position. He looked up at the Energy building and saw the smoke had cleared. He didn’t see any of his guys, so he tried calling out to them again.
“I’m here, Nick,” said Hollis. “Saw ‘em just in time.”
Nordell let out a sigh of relief. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Just a little shaken up is all. Their shot was off, which helped.”
“Are you still up top?”
“Yep.”
“Get out of there then. Go to hide two.”
“Copy that.” Nordell entered the parking lot and saw Bobby’s team. They jumped in the back of his vehicle, and he headed toward the train station. It was right across the street, and he would drop off half of Bobby’s team. Nordell wanted to keep the enemy busy while he flanked them.
After dropping them off on Hupp Avenue, he raced back around the Jijis before coming in from behind on North Park Avenue. He kept his foot on the brake, as he got closer to the intersection. He grabbed his binoculars and looked down the block. There was a van parked next to the building, which allowed them easy access to the roof. A couple of Jijis stood by the van keeping watch. Another two were still up on the roof. They wore fatigues, which meant these were the real fighters. He’d find out just how good they were.
He picked up the handheld radio called out to Bobby across the street. “Bobby, light ‘em up and keep ‘em busy.”
He waited for the shooting to begin before letting off the brake. He ordered the men in the back not to fire until he signaled. He didn’t want these guys to escape, and if they could surprise them, then they might be able to get their hands on an RPG.
The two Jijis keeping guard heard the gunfire across the street and began to return fire at Bobby’s men. Nordell sneered at their stupidity for not checking their six.
He rolled the truck until he was a hundred feet away and then yelled at his men to open fire. He threw the gearshift in park as the boys in the back laid waste to the two on the ground. Empty shells tinkled in the bed of the truck as Nordell came around the front. He aimed at the two exposed Jijis up top. Nordell emptied a magazine and dropped them both before they could return fire.
He ran toward the dead Jijis and looked inside the van to see three RPG’s sitting in the back. All he needed was a launcher. He climbed on top of the van and navigated his way onto the roof where the other two Jijis lay dead. Nordell smirked when he saw the launcher and another grenade next to them.
Bobby called in on the radio just as he reached down for it. “They’re coming in, Nick, get out of there.”
Chapter 58
Bassett drove the cruiser while wearing a police hat as they drove down the center of town. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he passed by the Jiji line, which was spread out across a few streets on either side. They were setting houses on fire as they marched through the neighborhood. Pillars of smoke were billowing up into the air and spreading a nauseating smell through the town.
It didn’t matter too much up here because Mayor Simpson had followed Winters’ recommendation that everyone evacuate the north side of town.
“Look at ‘em,” said Burns who was sitting up front next to Bassett. “They seem to be enjoying themselves.”
“Yeah, for now, they are,” said Meeks in the back. “Wait till they hit our lines.”
Meeks turned to Amber who was squashed between him and Scar. Between them their rifles and backpacks, there wasn’t much room left in the backseat. “Anything?” referring to her attempts at raising Reese or Nate.
She shook her head.
“They’ll be alright. I’m sure Reese is watching over them,” stated Scar. He had too many people to worry about and orders to give to concentrate on just one person. He was worried for sure, but his mind was on the bigger picture.
He had an escape route to open. Opening it wouldn’t be much of a problem, the trick would be holding it open. He didn’t know how many cops they had down there or if they were reinforced by the Jijis.
They continued south while listening to the radio chatter. The boys at the hospital were still defending it from all sides. They hadn’t given up and had even regained control of the back wing. The enemy had ceased firing RPG’s into the building, which could mean they had only so many of them.
“Scar, come in,” said Taylor over the radio.
Scar had been trying to locate him for a while. “Badger, where the hell are you?”
“I’m over at the garage. I got young Hadley with me. Soon as I heard what was going down, I hightailed it over here.”
Scar let out a breath of relief. “Tell me you got the SAW.”
“The what?”
Scar was about to scream into radio but was cut off by Taylor.
“Why do you think I came way the hell over here?”
“Of course, Badger. Foolish me.”
“Yeah, I’m just giving ya shit, Scar, thought you could use a little Badger humor.”
Scar shook his head while looking at Amber and Meeks. Usually, he was full of smart-ass responses but not today.
“I thought it was funny,” said Meeks.
Amber shot him a “now is not the time,” glare.
“Can you sneak across US 12?”
“Sure as hell can. I’ve got a few boys that can come along with me.”
A load just lifted from Scar’s shoulders hearing Badger’s voice, especially, since he had the SAW. They needed all the firepower they could get if they were going to take on these cops on. There were too many of them and too few Patriots.
Bassett stopped the cruiser on Emerald Drive, two hundred yards away from US 12 where the cops were guarding the border. Burns peered through the binoculars and saw they had the intersection blocked. They also had cars lined up every hundred yards or so making it impossible for them to go across unnoticed, even in the cruiser. The cops were aware they had confiscated a few of their cars and would be watching for them. Strangely, the cop’s radio
s were completely silent. Vatter must have given verbal instructions to his men beforehand.
Bassett made a right and cut across the flat fields to the Jiji line on the western front. His passengers kept their heads low while he boldly approached the Pulaski Road border with his emergency lights flashing. He acknowledged the Jijis with a wave as they parted the way for him. None of them wore fatigues, which meant the hired guns weren’t in the area.
As soon as he was across, he pushed the pedal to the metal and tore down Route 99 toward the town of Jonesville. The small town had been abandoned a couple of months ago, with some of the residents coming to Jackson.
After blowing through the town, he took a left and covered the fifteen miles back to US 127 in record time. As he hit the road, Scar keyed up the radio and called out to Taylor to check on his progress.
“I’m already here. Been waiting for ya. What the hell took you so long?”
Scar jerked his head back. “How did you beat us?”
“Over by the Michigan Speedway. Those idiots think the whole thing is fenced off, but it ain’t.”
Taylor had a knack for finding an alternate way of doing things. He never was one to tow the company line. He liked to do things his way, and he was right more often than not.
Scar put the radio down and thought for a moment on a plan of action. It was essential to clear out a path for citizens to come down but he couldn’t wait for a specific time to get them all across at once. Besides, to do that, they needed transportation, which would be hard to come by. Those without rides would have to make a run for it and hope for the best. All he could do for now was to open up an exit.
“I need a map,” ordered Scar.”
Meeks unfolded a map out and placed it on Amber’s lap.
“Where’s that college, everyone is going to?”
Amber pointed it out.
Scar didn’t like what he was looking at. Other than 127, there wasn’t a single road that ran straight down and across US 12. You had to take a right or left on US 12 to pick up another road in order to continue south. This meant they had a wider area to control and more cops to take out.
He ran his finger down South Jackson Road and like the others, it ended at US 12, but it was the most direct route from the college. Just to the west of it was a neighborhood where Waldron Road teed into US 12 but resumed heading south a couple hundred yards to the east.
Scar began nodding his head. It was the smallest area he could find, and it was their best option because this country road ran straight south to the Ohio border. You could get to it by taking a left off Jackson Road before you hit US 12. Perfect. If they could take out enough of the cops, then this would be the ideal place to open up an escape route for the fleeing citizens.
Scar looked up at Bassett who was waiting for orders. “You say the cops are set up every hundred yards?”
“Affirmative. What do you have in mind?”
“There’s a country road about a half mile west of Jackson Road in Somerset.”
“I know that road.”
Of course, Bassett knew where it was. The man made it a point to remember every nook and cranny of the area, and it had served them well over the last couple of weeks.
Scar keyed the radio and ordered Taylor to their location. With a cushion, it would be approximately six hundred yards. This meant there five cop cars to take out before they could establish a stable hole in their lines. It was doable, but how long could they hold this position? That was the more significant question.
Chapter 59
Having just taken out the four Jijis who had fired a rocket grenade at his friend Hollis, Nordell bent down to pick up the RPG launcher just as Bobby screamed a warning across the radio. The Jijis were racing up Michigan Ave toward his position. He turned to see two vehicles coming at them guns blazing from the back.
The retired Marine calmly reached over the corpse of the man he had just killed and grabbed the PG-7VL grenade lying next to him. The High-Explosive, Anti-Tank grenade could penetrate an armored vehicle and would have no problem taking out a pickup truck.
He loaded the launcher and mounted it before taking a knee. He sighted in his target and squeezed the trigger. The rocket took off toward the approaching vehicle which was now just fifty yards away. He watched as it sliced through the air at hundred and fifteen meters per second. It struck the truck dead-on. It hit in a thunderous explosion and lifted the pickup off the ground. Bodies flew out the back, all in different directions. The pickup behind it veered off and did a U-turn to avoid the same fate.
That was the great thing about these types of weapons. They put the fear of God or in their case, the fear of Allah in anyone around. It was a devastating weapon used to great effect by small armies around the world.
Nordell stood up and jumped back down from the roof to the van below. He ordered his men to grab all the weapons and throw them in the van. He could use another vehicle to block off roads. Besides, it already had three more grenades in the back and no telling what else.
Nordell strode back over to Michigan Avenue and raised his Vortex Crossfire 10 x 50 wide-angle binoculars. He held them rock steady as he looked past the smoldering truck toward the hospital where the gunfire was still echoing through the air.
He scanned the area and was surprised to see an older man wearing fatigues holding a pair of binoculars looking at him. Nordell recognized the emblems of a Saudi Colonel.
“Interesting,” said Nordell aloud.
“What’s interesting?” asked his friend Bobby who ran up to him.
Bobby was Nordell’s age and had known him since first grade. He still had most of his hair, though it was entirely gray bordering on white. He was surprising fit for a man who liked nothing better than to drink beer and play pool.
“I’m staring at their field commander, and he’s a Saudi Colonel.”
“Too bad Hollis isn’t still up top.”
“Which is exactly what this colonel is thinking right now. C’mon, we need to get back. They’re going to attack us.”
“Ya think?”
“Yep. They have to. They can’t let another sniper get the drop on them, besides they’ll want their RPG’s back.”
Nordell ordered everyone back before climbing into the van he had just confiscated. He turned to look at the grenades in the back. Not only was this a good catch, but he had also forced that Saudi Colonel to move against him, which would lighten the load for the guys still defending the hospital.
Knowing he just lost control of an RPG was going to gnaw on him and he would do whatever it took to get it back.
Nordell threw the van into gear and got on Michigan Avenue hoping the colonel was still looking his way. Driving the white van that had previously belonged to the man was a good screw you pal. Now come and get me.
The retired Marine tipped his head from side-to-side thinking how many men the Saudi would use. It would be a hurry-up operation, one they wouldn’t have prepared for, so he’d probably send a Company of at least a hundred men maybe more depending on how many he could spare.
Nordell didn’t worry about not knowing the number because he had spotters everywhere, and would know as soon as they made a move. They were perched high in all the surrounding buildings. Most were decent shots and would be able to slow the enemy’s progress toward their fortified position.
Nordell had been itching to get into this fight, and the enemy was obliging by coming to him. Killing those four Jijis had opened a reservoir of dividends.
He parked the van in the middle of the street, tightening the access to their position. He wouldn’t trust his guys to properly use the RPG, so he grabbed his new weapon and carried it back up the steps of the four-story brick building he was using as a command center.
He keyed the radio and called out to Hollis.
“I’m here Nick.”
“You in position?”
“Just setting up now. Damn those stairs, though.”
Nordell snickered. His
friend was across the street in a ten-story building. If you weren’t in shape, stairs had a way of knocking the wind out of you.
“Okay, listen up everybody. We just confiscated one of their RPG’s, and they’re gonna want it back. I expect at least a Company will attack us.”
Nordell remembered he wasn’t talking to Marines or Soldiers and needed to speak in layman’s terms. “That’s one hundred men. These guys will have to find us, which will leave them exposed. It’s to our advantage, so choose your targets carefully and take your time.”
Nordell let off the mic key. He could only pray his guys were ready. Most had never been in a firefight, though some had been involved in the Robinson Road battle. However, they were motivated because everyone had someone they knew murdered in the churches.
Thankfully, the Shadow Patriots happened upon them. Even though most of those guys weren’t former servicemen, they had been qualifications trained by the Canadians and were now seasoned fighters, having been in many firefights over the last few months.
Unfortunately, most of them were down at the hospital fighting for their lives. Nordell shook his head knowing it was going to be a bloodbath, but he still had the faith they would to put a hurting on the attackers.
Chapter 60
Scar got on the radio and ordered the guard at the post across the road from the college to go over to the campus and get them ready to move. They needed to find transportation and hightail down here. He wasn’t sure how long they could keep this area open before the cops tried to flank them or get organized to pursue the fleeing citizens.
Taylor, and his ten-man team, would clear the opposition east of Waldron Road while they attacked the west side.
Bassett drove up the road towards US 12 and parked the cruiser on a dirt road that led to a cemetery. Everyone gathered their gear and began skirting the graveyard in total silence.
Within a few minutes, they came to a house at the edge of the woods. Scar tapped Bassett on the shoulder to join him to clear the house of any cops that might be in there. He didn’t think it was likely because the siege on Jackson had started, but you couldn’t take anything for granted today. Murphy’s Law tended to hold court in these situations.