by Mark Goodwin
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Emilio felt a rough bump against his shoulder Saturday. He opened his eyes to see Dom standing over the truck bed where he’d been sleeping. The offense may not have been so egregious had Emilio gotten a better night’s sleep. After the long trip, the assault of blood and fire from the sky, and the shootout with the peacekeepers, he would’ve enjoyed something softer than the truck bed for a mattress. “What’s up?”
“Recon. You and the cutie are on a team with me and Click.”
Emilio looked over at Mackenzie who was still out. “I wouldn’t let her hear you call her cutie, especially not when she has a loaded weapon in her hand.”
“Whatever.” Dom turned to walk away. “Be ready to roll out in ten.”
Emilio frowned. He needed ten just to stretch out the stiffness, much less breakfast, a cup of coffee, and a chance to wash his face. He nudged Mackenzie. “Get up. We have to go.”
She rolled over, opened her swollen eyes, and mumbled with a gravelly voice. “I don’t want to go to school today.”
Emilio fought back a smile. He put the back of his hand on her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. You’re going.”
“But it’s Saturday!”
“It’s a make-up day. Come on, get up.”
She huffed. “What are we doing?”
“Reconnaissance.” Emilio rolled up his sleeping bag. “We’re leaving in ten minutes, so you have to hustle.”
“Why such a rush? And what are we reconnoitering?”
“You want to get out of here before the asteroid hits, don’t you?”
“That would be nice, but would an extra fifteen minutes for me to wake up really make that much of a difference?”
“It all adds up.” Emilio zipped his boots. “As for where we’re going on our recon mission, I’m guessing we’ll be looking for targets to blow up. We’re on a team with Click.”
“The demolitions guy? I thought he was with the Boogaloo clan. Why would Hinkle make us work with them?”
“This is guerilla warfare, not the third grade. Sometimes we have to work with people based on necessary skill sets rather than personality compatibilities.”
“I’ve already learned that lesson. I’ve managed to survive for more than six months with you, haven’t I?” She gave a mischievous smile.
He threw an MRE at her. “Real funny. This is one of the meals with instant coffee. Get moving, and maybe you’ll have time to wolf it down before we have to go.” Emilio tore open his MRE and ate while he located Hinkle.
The old man was reading a map spread out on the tailgate of a truck. He looked up when Emilio arrived. “Sleep okay?”
“I slept. Where are we going?” Emilio continued eating.
“We’ve intercepted enough radio transmissions to figure out how they’re bringing in supplies.” Hinkle pointed to the map. “The Global Order is coming through the Long Island Sound with ships. Evidently, Port Jefferson suffered the least amount of damage of any of the ports along the backside of the island. The barrier islands broke the wave some 15 miles away on the south side. Then, the port has a natural breakwater which mitigated the sea rise, hitting them from the back end. Problem is, the harbor isn’t deep enough to get big cargo ships in and out of. They’ve erected something like an oil drilling platform out in the sound. It has the cranes for offloading shipping containers onto barges so they can be brought into the harbor.”
Emilio made an educated guess. “We’re supposed to take out that platform.”
Hinkle nodded. “And the crane inside the harbor that unloads the barges, any goods they’ve recently brought in, plus any ships that might be sitting out in the sounds with supplies on board.”
“Oh, in that case, we should be finished in time for lunch.” Emilio pressed his lips together.
“We want this to be big. We have more than enough ordinance for all of that. We just need your team to figure out how to make it happen.”
“My team? You say that like I’m in charge.”
“You are, and I’ve let Dom know that.”
“I guess it’s still sinking in for him.” Emilio looked around. “Have you considered that the Global Order might have some folks assigned to making sure an attack of this magnitude doesn’t happen?”
“They’ll have their hands full when it’s time to place the charges.”
“Oh yeah?”
Hinkle nodded. “Three other recon teams are going out also. One will be putting together a plan to hit their infrastructure. We’ll attack housing facilities, dining facilities, logistics, warehouses, personnel, it’ll be a big show.
“The second team will hit the Long Island MacArthur Airport. That’s where they fly in everything that doesn’t come by ship.”
“And the third team?” asked Emilio.
“They’ll be coordinating an assault on the response teams, hitting the peacekeepers in charge of keeping everybody safe.”
“So, a four-pronged attack.”
“Yep, and your team will execute last so all the Global Order boys who know how to pull a trigger will be fairly well occupied by the time you launch.”
Emilio replied, “It’s a good plan, but I’m not sure how much it will actually hurt the Global Order.”
“Oh, it’ll hurt them good. Do you remember all those people we drove by on the way here?”
“Yeah, the gangs that look like Burning Man Festival rejects?”
“Yep. Once they hear that it’s open season on the empire, they’ll descend upon this place like a plague of locusts. It will take the Global Order months to regroup, repair, and re-establish a secure perimeter to build New Babylon. In the meantime, that’s resources they won’t be expending on us.”
“What makes you think they won’t just scratch the project altogether?”
Hinkle shook his head. “They can’t. Alexander has already announced it to the world. He’d look weak if he can’t pull it off. We’re not trying to keep them from building it, we just want it to cost them dearly to do it.”
Emilio wadded up the packaging from his MRE and tossed it in the burn barrel. “I think I can get on board with that plan.”
Hinkle patted him on the back. “I’m glad you like it.”
***
By late-morning, Emilio, Mackenzie, Click, and Dom were at an abandoned property overlooking the bay where Port Jefferson was located. They drove out in the Dodge Mega Cab, but had taken the .50 caliber machine gun off of the roll bar. Without an entire convoy to back them up, Emilio couldn’t afford to look like a hard target begging to be tested. For the recon mission, they were on their own. It was better not to stick out in any way.
They followed State Road 25-A up the Island rather than take chances driving on the interstate. The team found a collapsed house that still had one wall standing. They were able to climb up on the highest part of the roof over that wall and see for miles.
Dom handed the binoculars to Emilio. “It’s at least a mile from the entrance through the breakwater to the harbor. I can’t see it from here, but I bet it’s almost another mile from the breakwater out to the platform. Unless we’re in a cigarette boat, we’ll never be able to cover that much ground in the amount of time we’ll have to get in and out.”
Emilio scanned the wide-open expanse between the inlet and the docks. “A speed boat would draw more attention than we want. What if we split up into two teams?” He passed the binoculars to Click. “Could you get us up to speed on using the explosives?”
“Yeah. Detonation isn’t much more complex than changing the channel on television. The science is all in where you put it. We can have that all worked out before game day.”
Dom winked at Mackenzie. “But you’re still welcome to ride along with us.”
“Ewww. If I want fleas, I’ll adopt a stray dog. It would probably smell better anyway.” She snatched the field glasses from Click.
Click laughed. “You walked right into that one.”
“Shut up
,” Dom snarled at his partner. He turned his attention back to Emilio. “So it’s settled. We’ll do recon together, then you’ll do your thing, and I’ll do mine.”
Emilio had dealt with insubordination before from wannabe alpha males on his DHS tactical team. He was well-versed in handling these types of situations. “No. We’ll do recon together. Then, we’ll each put together a fire team to execute the mission. I’ll be the squad commander of both teams. I’ll be calling the shots, whether you’re in the boat with me or not.”
Dom’s face glowed red. He seemed to be even more embarrassed because he’d been dressed down in front of Mackenzie. “Sir, yes, sir,” he said with a flagrant tone of contempt.
Mackenzie passed the binoculars back to Emilio. “Whenever you guys get done playing king of the hill, check out those people loading into the small boats. They look like some kind of maintenance crew.”
“Those are some heavy-duty pressure washers on board.” Emilio wanted to assert his authority, but he was also eager to bring Dom back into the fold. After all, he needed his help to get the mission accomplished. He passed the field glasses to Dom. “What do you make of it?”
Dom seemed to quickly get over his soreness. “They’re pressure washers alright. My guess is that the scorched blood from our little storm the other night is causing problems with the cranes. These guys are probably tasked with cleaning it off.”
Click took the binoculars from Dom. “That’s our ticket to get up close.”
Mackenzie brushed the charred black substance off of her hands from leaning against the roof. “Cleaning this mess is a job that’s going to be around for a while.”
Emilio examined the attire of the crew. “Respirators, goggles, yellow hazmat suits, and rubber boots. We should be able to source that.”
“Yeah, we can source it from the guys getting on the boats.” Click handed over the glasses to Emilio. “For now, we need to get out to that inlet so we can see what we’re dealing with in terms of taking out that platform.”
“Okay, let’s do it.” Emilio placed the field glasses back in the case and led the team to the vehicle.
***
Later that evening, Emilio’s recon team returned back to the unstable parking garage which still served as the group’s de facto forward operating base.
“What have you got for me?” Hinkle asked.
Emilio pointed to the spot on the map where they’d observed the unloading platform. “Just like you said, they’ve got a crane set up here. A cargo ship is being offloaded as we speak and another one is anchored nearby. Looks like they’re next in the queue to be unloaded.
“The platform is about three-quarters of a mile out from the inlet. The port is about a mile inside the bay, past the inlet. Between the maintenance crew going back and forth to clean the crust off of the platform, and the barges ferrying the shipping containers to the port, we observed a steady flow of traffic in and out of the inlet. It wouldn’t be that difficult to blend in if we have the proper attire and the right vessel.”
Hinkle rubbed his chin as he studied the map. “Have you got a plan to acquire those items?”
“We’re going to use the peacekeeper uniforms to gain access to the crafts. If the crews don’t give us any problems, we’ll restrain them below deck until the operation is over. If they do, we’ll have suppressed weapons.”
Hinkle shook his head. “We’re not here to take prisoners or to leave witnesses.”
Emilio looked at Mackenzie standing behind him, then turned back to Hinkle. “The old me would have agreed with you 100 percent. But I’m apprehensive about killing non-combatants.”
“You agreed to work under my command,” said Hinkle. “It’s an order.”
Emilio hesitated, but finally said, “I understand that, but I answer to a higher power.”
“If you’re talking about your God, keep in mind these are the people that are supporting the emperor, the man who you say is the devil incarnate. This is war. There is no such thing as a non-combatant. You may never see Lucius Alexander holding a gun. I doubt you’ll ever hear about Carl Jacobs launching a drone strike against resistance fighters. But make no mistake, these men have more blood on their hands than any peacekeeper in the Global Order. The same goes for the maintenance crews, the tugboat captains, and everyone else who has thrown in their hat with the empire. This is not negotiable, Emilio. Are we going to have a problem?”
Emilio looked back at Mackenzie once more. He felt conflicted but agreed to the demand. “No, sir.”
“Good. We’ll have all the attacks coordinated by tomorrow evening. Go get something to eat, then get some rest. You’ve earned it. None of the recon teams have overwatch duty tonight. We’ll let the other group members handle that.”
“Thank you.” Emilio turned and led the way back to the Dodge.
CHAPTER 21
And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.
Psalm 50:15
Sitting in the passenger’s seat of the Dodge Mega Cab, Emilio inspected the sub-par sewing job which had mended the bullet hole in the peacekeeper uniform he was wearing. It was early Sunday evening and daylight was fading.
“At least they got the blood out.” Mackenzie watched him from the back seat as she tucked her hair beneath the gray uniform cap.
In the middle rear seat, Michelle frowned. “Mine had holes right over the heart, lung, and stomach.”
Billy slung a duffle bag over his shoulder and opened the back door of the vehicle. “You can barely see them.”
Emilio pulled the sling of another bag over his head, letting the duffle hang behind his back. He looked at Roy who was sitting behind the wheel of the Dodge. Unlike the others, Roy still wore his militia clothing.
Emilio opened the door and stepped out. “Pick us up at Setauket Harbor. Don’t break radio silence to tell us if you can’t get there because of trouble. If we don’t see you, we’ll just assume you’re at the secondary extraction point.”
“The school is a long way on foot,” said Roy.
“We’ll make it. Just make sure you’re at one of the two locations.” Emilio closed the door.
“If I ain’t at either one of ‘em that means I’m dead.” Roy rolled up the window, put the vehicle in reverse, and began backing out of the driveway.
Emilio led the team into the woods toward the port. All of them carried M-4 rifles and sidearms taken off of the peacekeepers killed at the Holland Tunnel.
“It’s going to be dark soon,” said Michelle. “We don’t have night vision. We can’t navigate through these woods without any light.”
“It’s only a few hundred feet,” said Emilio. “We need the cover of darkness when we come out of the tree line. Even with the uniforms, I don’t want to risk being spotted emerging from the woods.”
He strained to watch for branches and twigs. Emilio didn’t want to trip over any obstacles, but he also did not want to broadcast their presence with unnecessary noise. They arrived at the fence which had been installed along the line of the forest. Emilio squatted down, looked for anyone who might see them, then motioned for Billy to bring the bolt cutters to the front of the line. “Go ahead and make the cuts. We’ll select our target before we pass through.”
Billy was quiet about removing the tool from his duffle bag and snipping the wire fence.
Mackenzie checked the time. “The primary assaults are set to commence in fifteen minutes. We should be inside before that in case they declare a lockdown of the facility.”
“Our team and Dom’s team are both counting on that lockdown.” Emilio looked to the south where the big crane had been erected. “We can still pull it off if it doesn’t happen, but it’s going to be a much easier sell to the crew of the boat we’ll be taking over if there’s a lockdown.”
Emilio sat quietly for ten more minutes with his team. He studied the movements of the people inside the compound like a cat choosing which mouse he would select to pounce up
on. “That crew. Right there. They’re heading to a boat.” He pointed to four unarmed men in yellow plastic suits carrying duffle bags toward the docks.
“Come on, we’ll start making our way in their direction.” Emilio led the way through the freshly cut hole in the fence. He kept his eye on the crew, watching which boat they would board.
“We should pick up the pace,” said Mackenzie. “We don’t want to risk them leaving before we get there.”
“These guys are getting paid by the hour,” Emilio replied. “They’re not in any hurry.”
“Maybe not, but they might prefer milking the clock out on the water rather than on the dock,” she countered.
“You might have a point.” Emilio began walking at a brisker pace.
Right when they reached the docks, Emilio heard an explosion in the distance.
“Think that was the airport?” asked Billy.
“Probably not. The airport is fifteen miles away. The interim military base at Port Jefferson Station is only a mile away. My guess is that it came from there. Or, it could be the New Babylon construction site, which is about five miles away.”
Suddenly, a louder boom shook the ground. The sound of small arms fire soon followed.
“That was close!” exclaimed Michelle.
“I’d say that was the base,” said Mackenzie.
“You could be right.” Emilio broke into a sprint toward the boat. “Come on.”
The team reached the small vessel just as the claxon alarm began to sound. One of the men on the boat looked up at Emilio. “What’s happening?”
“The base at Port Jefferson Station is under attack. We’re locking down the port out of an abundance of caution.” Emilio climbed on board the small commercial fishing boat which had been converted into a maintenance craft.
“What are we supposed to do?” asked the man.
“Get below deck,” said Emilio.
“Why are we going below deck?” asked another of the men. “We don’t have anything to do with what’s going on.”