“Alright,” Lee said, stabbing a finger down on the page. “That’s Triprock.”
Abe and Angela took positions on either side of him and looked down at the image. Abby seemed to know when best to butt-out and took to rolling the single office chair around on the floor.
Lee pointed to three positions around the southern and eastern edge of the small settlement, which was little more than a cluster of tiny squares in the middle of the rolling Texas countryside. “These are where Brinly’s recon elements are situated. We need to figure out how to get in and out cleanly. And that all depends on whether Sergeant Ryder gives us a call anytime soon.”
“Still haven’t heard from him?” Angela asked.
“No, not yet. But he’s only been at Greely’s doorstep since this morning. No idea what type of entry procedures they might have, or how long that might take.”
Abe propped himself on his hands over the image. “Recon can’t stay in the bush forever. They’ve already been on target for over twenty-four hours.”
“I know. But if we rush into this, we run the risk of someone squeaking out the back and warning Greeley that we’re on the move. And that is not something we can afford at this point.”
“They’re going to find out we’re coming eventually.”
“Sure. But not yet. I’d like to get us a whole helluva lot closer to Colorado before they know we’re coming.”
Angela nodded. “The second they hear we’re on the move, they’re gonna tighten security.”
“And that’ll make it harder for Sam to get inside.” Lee straightened his back, hiding how he favored his hip. “We can’t pretend to know what they know. But it’s reasonable to believe that they’re not expecting what we’re doing. Last they saw of us we were hightailing it west. They’ll assume we wanted to hole up in our refinery and turn it into a last-stand situation.”
Abe shuffled his feet in a way that Lee, even without looking at him, could tell was agitated. “You know, Lee…”
Lee looked at the ceiling. “Christ, Abe. I know. If we’d’ve left a rear guard to fight them on their way to the refinery we’d have extended the subterfuge.”
Abe raised his hands. “So you admit that my argument had merit.”
“I already fucking admitted it.” A sheepish glance at Abby. “But we can’t afford it. And besides, that ship has already sailed, Abe. Now you’re just being…” an asshole. “Argumentative.”
Abe faced him. “Look. I want to see these bastards taken down just as much as you do, Lee. You don’t have a monopoly on wanting to see this mission succeed. I’m allowed to have opinions about how that should be done. And you’re going to hear them.”
Angela raised a hand between them before it could get any hotter, which it was prone to do. Like two brothers that couldn’t stop bickering, Lee and Abe rarely saw eye to eye on how to get from point A to point B. But they’d still die and kill for one another in a heartbeat. It went without saying.
“Abe, you’re right. We’re all allowed to voice our opinions. But at this juncture there’s no point. We’re doing this. Focus on what we’re doing, not on what you think we should have done.”
Abe made an ornery growling noise, but relented. “Alright, alright, alright. So there’s two wrenches that could get thrown into our gears, and we don’t know which is going to happen first. Either the force that kicked us out of Greeley is going to show up at the refinery and realize we’re nowhere to be found, at which point they’ll likely intuit what our objective is, or we bungle a takedown of Greeley-loyal forces and one of them gets a communication out to their command.”
Lee nodded. “We can’t do anything about the force from Butler. That’s a timeline we can’t control. But we can control bungled attempts to take out Greeley forces. Or at least mitigate their ability to communicate.”
“Fine.” Abe returned to leaning over the map with an irritable sigh. He used his finger to carve out a swath of land all along the west and north of Triprock. “We’ve got an ass-ton of people—relatively speaking. We can move them into position all along this open perimeter here. Anyone gets out of Triprock alive, they can dust them.”
Lee crossed his arms over his chest. “Which is a valid option. But we still need to consider the possibility of comms. They might have radios capable of reaching another outpost and outing us, or, even worse, they might have a satphone.”
“Which just means we’ll have to take them down fast and quiet.” Abe sniffed. “Luckily, it’s what I’ve spent the last two weeks doing.”
A deep pang of regret took Lee’s stomach. He barely restrained a grimace. Part of it was that he hadn’t been there with Abe. He hadn’t been at his side, exacting the vengeance that he so badly wanted to bring down on the heads of the cartel that had held the refinery workers’ families hostage.
But another, rawer part of him hated that he would not be there with Abe when the assault on Triprock began. He saw the entire thing in his mind’s eye. Moving swiftly through the night, the blackness like a cloak, his prey unaware that he was coming, his body whole, and primed, and ready. The fluid movement of death, the sort of perfectly-orchestrated eradication that allowed Lee’s mind to dip down into those cold, calm waters where he was doing what he was trained to do, what he was best at.
The vision dissipated. Flew apart into fragments that swirled around him like gnats, and then settled in the dull ache of his hip, and the stiffness of his arm, and the blackness that had now taken permanent residence over half of his vision.
Useless, a shadowy, sulking voice told him. A husk. A shell of what you were.
“Lee?” Abe’s voice, gentle now, as though it sensed the carefully-hidden turmoil inside of Lee.
“Right,” Lee nearly coughed out. “Yes. That’s what we need to do. And I know you can do it. But bear with me being anal about this, Abe. I’d feel a whole helluva lot better if I knew Sam was already inside before we make our move. Like I said: Risk mitigation.”
Abe scratched at his beard, then rubbed it smooth again. “Okay. I accept your valid point.”
“Well, hallelujah.”
“Hey, when you talk logic, I listen.”
“I always talk logic.”
Abe made a not-so-sure-about-that sound. “I’ll get up topside with Menendez and Breck and get our crew ready for the assault. Move into position…” he pointed to the southeastern corner of Triprock. “Right over here, where those hills will hide us.”
Lee nodded. “How you fixed on batteries for the NODs?”
Abe rocked a head back towards the bunker. “Should be some hiding in here somewhere. If not, we can probably make it happen with the juice we got.”
“I need to get topside too,” Lee noted. “This satphone ain’t gonna get a signal down here. The second I get notification from Sam that his team’s inside Greeley, I’ll give you the greenlight.”
Abe was already moving for the door. “We’ll be ready.”
SEVEN
─▬▬▬─
THE LONG WATCH
“I think it’s working,” Sam said, watching the little screen on the satphone light up as he held down the power button and then released. “At least…it’s got power.”
Jones inclined his head to Sam from across the room where he was perched near one of the windows. “You sure you didn’t cross any wires?”
Sam glanced up. “I didn’t wire any wires. I just pieced it back together.”
Jones held up a hand. “I’m just saying. You try to call Major Harden, and all the sudden some Cornerstone asshole picks up.”
Marie, seated on the rolling office chair, waved Jones off. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Jones. Just make the call, Sam.”
Sam nodded, then looked over to Pickell. “Hey, run out and check with Frenchie and Johnson. Make sure we’re all clear out here.”
Pickell frowned, but departed to do as asked.
Sam glanced at Marie, then at Jones. “I just want to make sure that no one�
��s eavesdropping.”
“Can’t be too careful,” Marie allowed.
Jones shrugged. “Won’t matter if you end up calling Greeley’s anti-UES Task Force tip line.”
Marie looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you always talk this much bullshit? Or is it just when you’re nervous?”
“Pff. I’m not nervous. And yes, I always talk this much bullshit. It keeps me centered. Otherwise I get depressed.”
Sam and Marie watched him for a moment.
“I’m serious,” he insisted. “It’s one of my things.”
“Well.” Marie settled back into the office chair. “By all means. Talk away, then.”
Jones looked back out the window. “Nah. I’m done.”
Pickell trotted back into the office. “They say the coast is clear.”
“Alright.” Sam looked at the phone. He almost didn’t want to dial, because once he dialed and hit the call button, and it turned out that the satphone was irreparably fucked, then what was he going to do?
He dialed anyways.
***
Abe made his way up the south side of the hill.
The top of it was crowned with a smattering of mesquite and short, scrubby live oak saplings that huddled beneath the husk of their lightning-struck granddaddy. The dark, gnarled fingers of the leafless limbs looked like a skeletal hand, warning Abe to stop and go no further.
But Abe didn’t believe in omens.
They’d left their vehicle—a small pickup with a small engine that wouldn’t be too loud—out in the brush, south of them about five miles. They didn’t want to drive it too close and risk the sound carrying to Triprock. So they’d hoofed it in, keeping a steady marching pace across the uneven terrain.
When Abe reached the dense thicket at the top of the hill, he slowed, then stopped just outside of its shade. The sun burned the back of his neck. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes. He put a fist up to halt the others, then blinked the sweat away and peered into the gloom beyond the brightly-lit frontage of the tree line.
He couldn’t see much. The forest was thick and tangled. Lots of underbrush clogging up the works between bigger trunks.
He decided to ease forward a bit more. All of those leaves reflected the sunlight, dampening his view of the shadows beyond.
He and the team behind him had all donned suppressors for this op. But that didn’t make your rifle silent. It just muffled it. The zip of the full-speed 5.56 mm rounds would still create little sonic cracks in the air, and those tended to carry a good ways. Likely all the way to Triprock, which was less than a mile past the top of this hill.
He really didn’t want to shoot at anything that might be hiding in the brush.
But then again, he really didn’t want to get chewed on either.
The primals—teepios, as they were called around here—were not like the ones on the east coast. Whatever the hell was going on with the east coast primals, whatever their evolution had taken them to, the ones out here in the plains states still maintained a small pack order. Most of the time around five. A tight-knit little family. Sometimes as big as ten.
And they liked to lounge in the shade during the heat of the day.
Abe keyed his squad comms and whispered into them: “Y’all hold back. I’m gonna scope out this thicket. Standby.”
He moved forward, sinking into a crouch and ducking beneath the first exterior branches that made up that bright wall of green. Two steps in. He stopped. Sank to a knee. Rifle up. Scanning over the top of the optic, back and forth through the thicket.
Without the sun’s reflection on the leaves, he could see a lot better, and the thicket wasn’t as dense throughout as it was on the edges. He could see the very top of the hill, maybe thirty yards ahead. Everything that he could currently see was clear.
But that didn’t mean much.
He keyed the radio again. “Alright. You’re clear to come in. Single file, right where I entered.”
He made himself relatively comfortable as he waited. His stomach growled noisily. His tongue was getting dry, but at least he was still sweating, so he wasn’t dehydrated just yet. Once they could clear this thicket, they’d grab a bite or two and some water, then set up for the long wait.
The sounds of the stale grasses rustling. His team moving up on his position.
He kept his focus out, all along the horizon-line of the hill above him.
An electric jolt went through his thigh, causing his whole body to jerk.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Goddamned satphone.
That would be Lee. But Abe couldn’t talk right now. First, clear the thicket. Then he could talk.
He left the satphone in his cargo pocket and eventually the vibrations stopped.
Eight bodies slid into the shade with him and took up positions, creating a sort of half-moon bristling with rifle barrels pointed out. Abe finally removed his eyes from their watch on the hilltop and looked first at Menendez to his right.
“You take your fire team right, along the edge of the woods.” He looked left to Breckenridge. “You take your fire team left. I’ll take mine straight up the middle. We’ll meet up on the woodline on the far side, get eyes on Triprock, and set up our overwatch.”
No one answered. They just started moving. Stealthily through the woods, their footfalls soft in the crinkling leaves.
Abe rose up to his feet, glanced back at the two soldiers behind him, and motioned forward with his support hand. They took the rise of the hill, and Breck and Menendez disappeared to the left and right.
At the top of the slope, Abe paused for a moment, looking down and checking everything that lay before him. It looked clear. No packs of primals lurking in the shade for a noonday nap. They proceeded down the hill on the north side and met up with the other two fire teams in the center.
“Alright,” Abe rubbed the gathering sweat from his eyebrows. “Spread out. Take up positions. I want a rear guard on the top of that hill behind us as well. This thicket is our home for the next twelve hours. Once you’re in position, grab a bite and some water. Stay hydrated. Stay comfortable. We got a long wait ahead of us.”
The soldiers slunk silently to their positions, scattered throughout the woods. Breck and Menendez stayed with Abe. This was a well-worn plan of action. They’d done this a half-dozen times in Mexico. And the bodies they’d left behind gave them confidence in its efficacy.
Menendez bore a marksman’s rifle with a magnified optic affixed. Abe nodded toward the treeline dead ahead of them. “Menendez, slip up in them bushes and get eyes on Triprock. I need to call Lee back.”
“Roger ‘at,” Menendez murmured. His short-cropped black hair glistened with dew drops of perspiration. His helmet was strapped to his small assault pack, but he wouldn’t need it until it was time to start the Midnight Boogie. He dove into his cargo pocket and unfolded a tattered boonie hat which he perched on his head and shoved the rumpled brim down so that it nearly covered his eyes. He slid down the hill, just a rustle in the leaves.
Breck parked his butt on the ground and fished out a handful of jerky made from a Texas antelope last week, wrapped in an old bit of printer paper from the refinery. He bit off a chunk and chewed, looking thoughtful.
“How long you think we’ll have to wait here?” he asked around the mouthful.
Abe settled back, kicking his legs out in front of him and using his assault pack as a backrest. He pulled the satphone out as he shrugged. “No idea. Lee wants to wait until Sam’s securely inside Greeley. Hopefully that’s what he called me about. But we won’t move from here until at least past midnight, at the earliest.”
Breck nodded as Abe punched in the key to redial Lee’s call. “I’ll work up a quick sleep-watch schedule.”
“Thanks.” Abe put the satphone to his ear and waited as it rang.
Lee answered on the second ring. “Lee here.”
“Sorry, Buddy. Was clearing out a section of woods when you called.”
&nbs
p; “That’s alright. Y’all in position?”
“Yup. Menendez is putting eyes on Triprock right now. We’re settling in on that hill.”
“You made comms with the recon elements yet?”
“Negative. Called you back first.”
“Roger that. Abe, I got bad news.”
Abe’s hope for a greenlight flopped over like a tired dog that’s been out in the heat too long. “Right. When is it not bad news? What happened?”
“Sam just made contact. But he’s not in Greeley yet. They got him and his team stuffed up in some sort of little holding area about a mile or two outside of Greeley. He’s got eyes on Greeley, but he’s not in just yet. He says that they were told the only way they get inside Greeley is if they’re needed. Whatever the fuck that means.”
Abe frowned. “Well, what does that mean? A few more hours? A few more days?”
“He has no clue. He says there’s upwards of a hundred civilians stuck in this place. Some of ‘em look like they’ve been there for quite a while.”
“Fuck me running. What’s that mean for Triprock?”
Lee let out a sigh that huffed in the microphone. “I’m still working that out. You and your team are kitted for three days.”
Abe closed his eyes like a sudden pain was engulfing him. He really didn’t want to be stuck in these damn woods for three days. “Can’t they just sneak into Greeley at this point?”
“No. He said they got this holding area locked down tight. Said he watched a family try to make a break for it and they got gunned down.”
Abe opened his eyes again. “Shit.”
“Listen. Sam’s motivated. He won’t waste time. He’ll get into Greeley at the first opportunity that presents itself. We just have to give him time.”
“Lee, the recon elements only got another forty-eight hours.”
“We can run resupply to them.”
“We can take this place. We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”
Lee Harden Series | Book 5 | Unbowed Page 6