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Special Ops (Sundown Apocalypse Book 5)

Page 12

by Leo Nix


  Obi-Wan looked at the group and nodded. “OK, let's prepare to move out. Murphy and Pipeline, can you come over here, please? Let's have a look at this map of Bluey's.” They examined the map while Obi-Wan explained Bluey's suggestions for the best route to take through the desert.

  While the girls helped Julie carry her scant kit and pack it into Murphy's vehicle the two SEALS discussed their return journey to Meekatharra with Joey. It seemed that Joey knew quite a lot about the arid desert regions of Western Australia and suggested he escort them, at least back to Meekatharra. They would then plan their second leg to help repair the helicopter.

  “Staff Sergeant,” called Pipeline. “I'd like to help Joey and his townsfolk prepare for a terrorist assault before we head off to Learmouth. We'll just be a single day then we'll be off to visit Maverick. It's the least we can do for all they've done for us.”

  Obi-Wan rubbed at the itchy growth of his blond beard. “All right, Pipeline, do that, but your first priority is the Black Hawk. Nothing comes between that bag of equipment and Maverick.”

  The two SEALs extended their hands to Obi-Wan then to Skip. Immediately the others lined up to hug and shake hands with the crew before they set off on their mission.

  Julie squeezed Skip's hand. “I'm sorry but I have to go home. I've got someone there I need to sort things out with. You know, unfinished business.” They embraced a little longer than two friends normally would. They had supported each other through hell and back and Skip had actually started to fall in love with the tall lawyer.

  “Good luck, Julie, I'll miss you. I hope things go well for you.” He turned so she wouldn't see the grief plastered all over his face.

  “Boss,” said Pipeline in his deep voice, “we'll deliver that bag to Maverick, don't sweat on it.”

  The two groups were soon back on the road, dust billowed behind them as they headed in opposite directions. One to Pine Gap the other back to the hell they'd just escaped.

  Chapter 10 – Return to Meekatharra

  Petty Officer Third Class Peter 'Pipeline' Liner, sat in the back and napped, while his US Navy SEAL buddy, Petty Officer Second Class Matt Murphy, drove. Emily sat beside him in the passenger's seat trying to stay awake.

  Joey shared the driving with Trisha and Julie. It made sense and it also made room for everyone to get some sleep. They drove as fast as conditions allowed. There were times Joey would slow down to a crawl to avoid particular areas where the kangaroos gathered on the side of the road. Hitting a full-grown kangaroo can do serious damage to the kangaroo, the vehicle, and to those inside.

  After two hours driving in the dark Joey pulled to the side of the road, Murphy pulled in beside him, they both got out.

  The stars above shone like sparkling fairy lights at Christmas. Together, with just a sliver of moon, every detail on the side of the road was clearly visible. It was one of those spectacular nights that must have inspired the ancient aboriginal desert dwellers, sitting around their camp-fires, to create their myths of the dream-time.

  “What's up, buddy?” asked Murphy, completely oblivious to the beauty above him. He stretched his hands upwards, then to the sides, his back crunched loudly in the still night air of the desert.

  “Murphy, I've got to rest, I'm starting to hallucinate. I'm done. The girls have had it too. I think we need to rest before we fall asleep at the wheel or hit a 'roo. We'll still get home in time for breakfast at my mum's place,” replied Joey. His yawning almost put Murphy to sleep. Illuminated by the starlight his wiry frame made him look like an elf from a fantasy movie.

  Murphy, mindful that they were all exhausted not having slept for two days, agreed.

  “Yeah, that's sweet. Take us off the road and we'll sleep until 5 am. How's that?” he asked.

  “That, my friend, is a cracking idea,” said Joey, his eyes felt like they had sand in them. He was sure that for the past hour he'd stayed on the road by sheer instinct alone.

  They pulled into Maisie's house not long after dawn. Walt was in the kitchen cooking eggs and bacon, he looked up as the group came in through the front door.

  “Back so soon? How'd it go fellas? How'd Bluey cope with the visit? He's not had that many people drop on his doorstep ever. I bet he was feeling a bit paranoid,” said the old man flipping eggs and bacon onto slabs of thick, buttered toast, “and that cat of his, Piggy, I bet she won everyone's hearts.”

  Joey called for Gina to get another dozen eggs from the pantry, “and grab some more bacon, will ya?”

  Emily grabbed a pair of tongs and began helping Walt while Julie and Trisha toasted and buttered the bread.

  Joey sat wearily at the kitchen table. “Bluey managed OK, Walt. Obi-Wan and Skip did well to keep him relaxed right to the end. He lost it when they asked him to come with us, but he'll get over it. I'll jump on the radio after breakfast and check up on him.” Joey leaned over the plate handed to him, wearily poured on a liberal amount of tomato sauce and started eating, the conversation forgotten.

  Over breakfast Murphy explained their return, minus certain details. He then asked Walt about the townsfolk and their readiness for a possible assault by the terrorists.

  “We had a meeting last night while you blokes were gone. There were about four hundred in the hall and they were mighty pissed off at Obi-Wan for burning down our hotel I can tell you.” He laughed remembering the night. “We've got some of the home-brewers working overtime to make up for the loss.”

  “Walt, any news on what the terrorists are doing?” asked Emily.

  “We don't know, if anyone does it's Bluey. He's been monitoring the radio non-stop. Didn't he say anything yesterday while you were there?” Walt looked at his step-son and waited for him to finish his mouthful of egg and bacon.

  “Nah, you know what he's like,” mumbled Joey, “he wasn't all that comfortable once their business was finished, he closed up and locked himself in his bedroom.”

  Pipeline asked, “Did anyone at the meeting come up with a plan for your defenses? And have you and the boys collected the spare ammunition and weapons in the terrorist's vehicles?” He looked at Walt expectantly.

  “Yeah, we did, we've got our own rifles too.” The old man sipped at his hot tea and smiled. “If the terrorists show up we've got a few good ex-army and shooters, you know, dingo and kangaroo shooters. The rest of us can fire off the half-dozen automatics they left behind. The fire only burnt part of the hotel anyway, we managed to scrounge enough ammunition for a fight or two.”

  “What I mean, Walt,” said Pipeline softly, “is that Murphy and I will spend today with you and help you set up a defensive perimeter. We've got another job to do which means we can't stay any longer, I'm sorry about that. Do you think you could organise some of your people to come around with me and Murphy? We'll walk through what we think would make good defensive positions and possible strategies. I'm afraid we might have terrorists dropping in here by nightfall.”

  “By tonight? Huh, yeah, we can do it.” He gulped the last of his tea and stood up. “You lot stay here and finish your breakfast, I'll do the rounds with Maisie. We'll be back in a half hour with the Meekatharra Volunteer Army.” He chuckled loudly, grabbed Maisie by the arm, together they marched out of the front door.

  By late afternoon the two SEALs were satisfied that the Meekatharra residents had developed a plan of what to expect and what to do. They volunteers had already started preparations and had set up a veritable labyrinth made of derelict cars on the roads leading into the town. There were outposts complete with CB radio's in their sniper positions covering every possible entrance. They had plastic explosives buried in the road where the terrorists would have to stop at the barricades. If anyone made it into the township there were vicious booby-traps and set points for defense that the civilian soldiers could retreat to and fire from.

  “It's not the easiest place to defend but what you guys have done is good, damn good,” admitted Pipeline to Joey and Walt, his two off-siders.

 
Gina had been out looking for the boys and when she saw them she called out.

  “What's she so excited about?” asked Murphy.

  “I bet Gina's got news from Bluey. Come on, we'd better find out.” They ran down the slight incline of the hill that overlooked the mines and the township itself.

  Gina was panting, trying to catch her breath in the afternoon heat.

  “I just spoke to Bluey… he said the terrorists… are on their way… they said they would be here… by dusk…” She stopped talking to breathe deeply and get more air into her lungs.

  “Darn, they didn't waste any time did they. Did Bluey say how many terrorists?” asked Pipeline, now in action mode.

  “He said a 'squad', I think that means a car-load?”

  “Hmm, they lose a half platoon and they only send a squad to investigate? Maybe they've got other things on their minds, or they think that maybe their friend's radio has broken… what else did Bluey say?” asked Pipeline.

  Gina was now a lot calmer, her breathing and nerves settled. “Bluey said they don't know about the fight, they just think that it's a broken radio, like you said they would.”

  Pipeline and Murphy moved away from the three and talked softly. They came back to their friends.

  “OK, here's what we'll do.”

  While the men were out preparing their defenses the girls had been busy with Maisie and Gina preparing meals and organising how to manage any of their townsfolk who may be wounded in the coming fight. Trish and Julie enjoyed the easy manner of the townsfolk. By the end of the day, the two girls had decided that they would stay at Meekatharra and not repeat the horrendous drive across the desert to rescue the helicopter crew.

  “That's a good idea,” said Emily. The three were busy cutting sandwiches and wrapping them for the fighting men. She looked carefully at Murphy then back at her girlfriends, “but I'm going to stay with Murphy, we've got something going, I think.”

  “Go girl, you're always the one to get the handsome boys,” laughed Julie. “I wish we'd never had this stupid damn apocalypse in the first place. I was happy where I was. Perth, men, career, money, travel… you name it I had it. Now look at us, stuck in the desert miles from nowhere.”

  “At least we've got nice companions, look how lovely these people have been to us. Can you imagine another week driving in that bloody car, over the stinking desert? No shower, hardly any water to drink let alone wash in, and my hair… yuk!” Trisha didn't need to say anymore. The girls giggled and swapped stories of how bad it was crossing the desert from Shark Bay to Meekatharra.

  “If it wasn't for the odd farmhouse and dams we'd have sprouted mushrooms down there,” said Julie. Maisie had just walked in and snorted with laughter.

  “So you girls are going to stay here or are you going off with the soldier boys?” she eventually asked as she studied each in turn. She knew what they were thinking and quietly agreed that another crossing like that was something no city-girl would want to repeat in a hurry.

  “Trisha and I are staying. We don't want to go back to the desert when we can stay here, in this lovely town with you lovely people. If you'll have us, that is?” Julie looked at the tough country-woman with the bright, red apron and blue-rinsed hair.

  “So you're staying? Goodness, my dear girls, the men here will certainly enjoy having fresh blood to prey on.” Maisie smiled broadly. She liked these city girls, they pitched in and didn't shirk the dirty jobs either. “You can stay with Walt and me, we've got a spare room and double bunks that the grandkids used to sleep in. I'm sure Walt would enjoy the company of a couple of pretty young girls too.”

  “I hope one day we can get back to our homes. We've got family and Julie and I have boyfriends, no doubt they're all worried about what's happened to us,” said Trisha.

  “We don't even know if they're alive, Trisha. If these Revelationists did what we heard they did with the poisoned water; then the executions like they did at Geraldton; Perth and Sydney could be ghost towns for all we know,” added Julie, chewing her lip, worried about her future.

  “So what's their ETA?” asked Pipeline, his mind was in so many places that he had to fight to bring it back into focus.

  Walt replied calmly, knowing the huge black man in front of him was doing his best for his community. “Bluey said they've had a break and will now be arriving around 1 am, so after midnight.”

  “In that case you won't be needing us. It's going to be your war, Walt. Murphy and I have a top priority mission to get to and we can't let anything get in the way of that. I'm sorry but we'll be leaving at dusk.”

  “Hey, big fella,” said Denny, one of a small group of ex-military gathered around the giant SEAL. The defenders included a mix of miners, prospectors and farmers from the Meekatharra district. “Don't worry about us, we know how to kill, just ask Bob here. We've both done two tours of Vietnam, 1970-72. We know how to fight, mate. You've done enough, thanks for your help, but your friends need you now.”

  “We've got the approaches mined all we need do is blast the bastards when they pull up at the road-block. From what Joey said they don't know what's happened to their friends. For all they know the radio fell over and doesn't work anymore,” said Bob standing beside Denny. They looked to be in their late sixties or early seventies, it was hard to tell with their faces weathered to an almost leathery texture by the harsh Australian sun. They were dressed in khaki shirts and trousers, and, like everyone else, they wore wide-brimmed felt hats. Each of the small group held a rifle, some were ex-World War Two, Lee-Enfield .303's, others had expensive hunting rifles of various makes and designs.

  Pipeline looked at the stalwart group and nodded, he could see they were staunch and would give whoever turned up a proper reception. Perhaps as good as he and his SEAL Team Six, back in the states, would have given them.

  “Thanks, fella's, I'm real glad to have met you.” They all shook hands warmly. “I hope one day to come back and spend some more time to enjoy your hospitality. Maybe the hotel will be renovated by then and I can get a decent cold beer.” They all smiled and nodded in agreement, already a work crew was repairing the bar and cleaning up the undamaged lounge.

  Pipeline called for Murphy to join him. They walked back to their dual cab four-wheel drive together.

  “Hey, Pipeline, someone's inside our vehicle!” said Murphy suddenly. He pulled his pistol from its holster at his hip.

  “Hey, you, inside that vehicle! Come out or I'll shoot you!” he yelled. By now Pipeline had converged to the other side and had his pistol held at the ready.

  Just then a balding head appeared above the dashboard. “What? Oh, hi guys! I'm nearly finished, just give me a minute.” Joey's head disappeared again from sight. It was clear that he was oblivious to the SEAL's drawn pistols.

  Pipeline looked at Murphy and grinned, they both holstered their weapons and peered inside. There they saw Joey just finishing up with his radio renovations.

  “There, it's done!” said Joey putting his screw-driver into his toolkit and exiting the cabin. “Now you can talk to Bluey, myself and the Black Hawk. It's a little contraption Bluey gave me. Just screw it into the CB radio and it connects you to the satellite right above us. It's a bloody beauty. And what's more,” added Joey with a big grin, “It's all coded by Bluey so no one knows you're on the network, you're invisible.”

  “Wow, how do we work it?” asked Murphy peering in to look. “Hey, there's nothing different, did you put something inside?”

  “Yep, it's screwed right at the back of the radio,” said an excited Joey. “Just click to the alternative channel that comes up when you switch it on then you're live on the network.”

  “Did Obi-Wan get one? Is he on the network too?” asked Pipeline. “I don't remember you screwing anything into his radio before we left.”

  “Bluey didn't give me one for him,” said Joey. “This is one I've had sitting in my shed waiting for a good home. Bluey would be really pissed if I'd given it to just anyone. I
t's top secret and Bluey would kill me and I mean that literally if I'd given it to Obi-Wan without his permission. You're just lucky, he suggested I put this one in for you, otherwise, I'd have to let you guys drive off without it.”

  “Thanks, Joey, this is going to make a heap of difference.” Pipeline flicked the switch on the CB and found the alternative channel that appeared where none had been before. “Can I test it out?” he asked, his grin was almost wider than his face.

  “Sure, call signs are 'Maverick' as you know, 'Goldmine' for Bluey and 'Tonto' for me.” Joey blushed when he gave his call sign. His call sign, 'Tonto', was the name of the Lone Ranger's sidekick. “Go on, call Maverick now. No one can hear you except those on the network. Bluey, Maverick and me are the main ones. There are a few others but they won't talk to you until they've been given the clear by Bluey, personally,” said Joey, delighted to be able to contribute to the rescue of the Black Hawk.

  “Maverick this is Pipeline, Obi-Wan's rescue team, do you copy?” There was no reply, nothing. Pipeline and Murphy looked at each other, then at Joey, who continued to smile. He reached across and took the mic from the big man's giant hand.

  “Maverick, this is Tonto, we have a new member of our family, Pipeline, do you copy?” he said brightly.

  There came a crackle of static then a voice came through, loud and clear, “We copy you Tonto, so this is our rescue team, Pipeline? Over?”

  “Roger that Maverick. I'll pass you over to Pipeline, over.” He handed the mic back to Pipeline.

  “Pipeline, I wasn't sure if that was you, we don't get many visitors on this channel. What's your situation, over.”

  “Maverick, we're heading off at sunset with one vehicle and three crew, one is a civilian. We will no doubt need a week or maybe more to get to you. Bluey has supplied us with maps and plotted fuel and water depots at friendly farmhouses on the way, over.”

 

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