Occupied Seattle (Occupied Seattle Book 2)

by Christopher Kennedy

  The field was quiet, except for the screams of some of the wounded Chinese soldiers in the middle of the field, and the popping of exploding ammunition from one of the burning attack helos. Calvin had the RAWS team and heavy machinegun gunners take care of the dead and wounded, while he sent the rest of the team into the building to help out Master Chief. With all of the destruction in the field, someone was sure to notice. They had to get the weapons and get out of the area ASAP!

  Inside the IAB, University of Washington, Seattle, WA, 1105 PDT

  Ryan was pretty sure he had found where the weapons were. They were on the other side of the locked door that soldiers kept firing through. Although they couldn’t see where they were shooting, there wasn’t much room in the corridor for misses, and one of the bullets had hit Private First Class Nick Borneo in the thigh before they could all pull back around the corner. The bullet had missed the bone, but he still wasn’t going to be running any marathons in the near future. Or walking unassisted, either.

  Ryan was down to four combat effectives, including himself, and was pissed off and in a hurry. He pulled all of the troops further back, with Corporal Beck helping PFC Borneo, and threw two grenades down the corridor toward the door. The soldier on the other side of the door must have heard the first grenade and decided to try to throw it back, Ryan guessed, as he saw the door start to open. The second grenade landed next to the first as Ryan dove back around the corner. Whatever the Chinese soldier’s intentions might have been, no one would ever know, as he caught the majority of both blasts and was blown back into the room, coming to rest alongside a large swimming pool. Seeing the remains of his comrade and stunned by the blast, the second soldier in the room put up his hands and surrendered as the Americans came into the room. As Ryan entered, he noticed six large crates located near the door to the outside.

  He had found the nukes. Happily, it didn’t appear that they had been hit by the blasts of the grenades. If Ryan had thought that the soldier would have opened the door, he wouldn’t have thrown them and risked damaging the nukes. Although it had turned out all right, it could have gone horribly wrong. He realized that he needed to try to plan a little better next time and NOT RUSH WHERE NUKES ARE INVOLVED!

  He had his men open both the exterior door and the other interior door, where they found Top’s group. They had run into a squad of Chinese soldiers, and the fight to get by them had delayed the other group. The Chinese soldiers that the other group had run into had probably been with the other soldiers in the pool room guarding the nukes, which was why there were only two left when Ryan’s group got there. The other American group was down to three soldiers, having had one killed and another critically injured during the brief firefight with the Chinese.

  With the help of Top’s group and the men from outside, they were able to load the weapon crates onto the wheeled pallets that were nearby and began moving them toward the door. They stopped and readied their weapons as a loud noise was heard from outside. After a couple of seconds, they realized that the noise was due to the jet engines of another of the Chinese navy’s LCACs, and they prepared to defend the nuclear warheads, closing the door and moving the weapons away from it. Ryan did a quick check of his men and realized that nearly all of them were running low on ammo. “Watch your shots and conserve your ammo,” he said to them. “Army resupply is running a little slow today!”

  Judging by the noise, the LCAC pulled right up to the door and then stopped there. After a few seconds, there was a knock on the door in the classic ‘shave and a haircut’ rhythm. Ryan tapped out the ‘two bits’ and opened the door to find Calvin standing in front of the captured LCAC. “It’s amazing how helpful people will be if you stick a .50 caliber rifle in their face,” Calvin explained. “I had PFC Johnson point the sniper rifle at the LCAC driver, and he decided that he really, really, wanted to drive us wherever we wanted to go. Of course, he wet himself, too, but at least he did that outside of the LCAC.”

  “Out-standing, sir!” Ryan approved. “Give us a minute to get these loaded. I know just the place to go!” Ryan detailed some of the Rangers to load the weapons onto the LCAC and sent some of the others to get the SUVs that they had driven to the university, so that they would have transportation once they were done with the LCAC. Finally, Ryan was ready. “Hey, LT,” asked Ryan, “could you get your driver to fire this pig up so we can get going? I’ve got a feeling that it’s going to get ugly here really soon, and we need to be GONE!”

  Calvin looked over to Shuteye standing next to the coxswain, “Let’s get the hell out of here, Sergeant!” Calvin said.

  “Yes, sir!” agreed Shuteye, turning to the driver. The platoon was quickly on its way.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Two: Afternoon, August 20, 2018

  White House Situation Room, Washington, D.C., 1500 EDT (1200 PDT)

  “They lost three Rangers and had several more wounded, but LT Hobbs and his men were able to recover the nukes,” the CNO said to the president.

  “Thank God!” said the president with a sigh.

  “Amen!” agreed the Army Chief of Staff.

  “You’re never going to believe where they took them, either,” said the CNO.

  “You can tell me all about it later,” said the president. “First, let’s talk about how we’re going to get our cities back.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the CNO, “my staff has already drawn up some options. First, though, there are some things that still need to be done…”

  Boeing Airplane Programs Manufacturing Site, Renton, WA, 1205 PDT

  “This place is HUGE!” said Calvin, looking around Boeing’s Airplane Programs Manufacturing Site.

  “Yes, sir,” said Andrew Brown, Boeing’s plant manager. “The hangar has over 4.3 million square feet of building space and was the birthplace for some of commercial aviation's most well-known airplanes. Most of the facility is currently dedicated to building our Next Generation 737 airplanes, including the 737-700C convertible freighter, the Boeing Business Jet, and the newest member of the 737 family, the navy’s P-8A Poseidon multi-mission maritime aircraft.” He pointed out the various aircraft being built in the hangar, including one that Calvin could see was nearly finished and painted with all of the standard U.S. Navy markings. The plant manager saw where Calvin was looking and continued, “The P-8A is the world's most advanced long-range maritime patrol and reconnaissance aircraft. We are proud of our production facilities here, especially since this building’s joint civil/military production line is the first time a military aircraft has ever been built in-line with commercial aircraft.”

  Calvin looked back to the navy’s newest ship, a Type 726, Yuyi-class LCAC, parked behind the navy’s newest airplane, where they had squeezed it between the plane and the wall. The platoon had renamed it the USS Ranger in honor of Staff Sergeant Kowalski, Corporal Matthew Evans, and Private First Class Steven Shad who had been killed in their recent operations against the Chinese. Sitting alongside it were the six boxes that had been unloaded from the LCAC. The plant manager assumed that the ten armed Rangers standing in the vicinity of the LCAC were there to guard the captured LCAC; the Rangers knew their mission was to guard the boxes.

  Located in Renton, WA, the plant was adjacent to Lake Washington, just to the southeast of Seattle. One of the plant’s earlier products was a seaplane, and Ryan knew that the plant had a ramp that led down to the lake for seaplane launch and recovery. A quick 8-minute ride at 50 knots was all it took to get the LCAC from the University of Washington to shelter, and the ramp provided easy access for the Rangers to drive it up and into the hangar where it wouldn’t be seen by the Chinese. If needed, they could get a navy LCAC driver to come and move it into one of the smaller buildings once it was dark. They didn’t think that they had been seen by the Chinese. If they had, there would surely have been some sort of response by now.

  There was a quiet ‘beep,’ and Calvin pulled Ryan’s phone out of his pocket. He read the incoming text and then s
hut the phone with a click. Looking back at the perspiring man in the suit in front of him, he said, “The president says to give everyone the day off with pay. Before you let them leave, though, make sure that everyone knows that their lives depend on their NOT knowing that this vessel is sitting here.”

  “I believe it,” said Mr. Brown, glancing around to make sure that no one was close by, “especially since all of the writing on it is in Chinese.” He paused. “Wait,” he said, “did you say the president? Of the United States?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Calvin, “that president. He’d like it very much if the word didn’t get around that this boat was sitting here. I’d prefer that it didn’t either.” The manager nodded his agreement and Calvin turned and walked over to where the Rangers’ Executive Officer (XO) stood waiting for him.

  The XO, First Lieutenant Odysseus Bollinger, had met them at the plant with an additional ten soldiers after Top had reported in to the Rangers’ CO that they needed a guard detachment for the prisoners they had taken. The junior enlisted had laughed to themselves when the XO had shown up instead. The XO was a consummate professional and had quickly taken charge of the zip-tied Chinese soldiers and sailors. The Chinese enlisted men knew that the United States had recovered the nuclear weapons, how they had escaped, and where they had gone. They couldn’t be released to tell their chain of command. At the moment, the only things the Chinese leadership would know was that there had been a big fight at the university, all of their helicopters were destroyed, and the weapons were gone. They’d also know that one of their LCACs had gone missing but wouldn’t know if that was related. They would probably expect that it had been destroyed, but wouldn’t know for sure.

  “You did a great job so far,” the Rangers’ XO said. “I have to tell you, I thought this whole idea was lunacy, but you pulled it off. Are you planning on something for an encore, or can I have my troopers back now?”

  “Actually, we do have another task from the JCS that we need your troops for,” said Calvin, using the abbreviation for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the body made up of the senior officers from all of the military services. “I’m pretty sure that we’ll have them returned to you by tomorrow morning at the latest, if that’s OK.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter much whether it’s OK to me or not,” the XO semi-growled, “since the Chief of Staff has already told us to shut up and do it anyway.” A touch of a smile flashed across his face. “That being said, you guys have done pretty well so far. I’d just ask that you try to bring them all home in one piece.”

  “I know,” said Calvin, feeling awful for having led the operation that resulted in the deaths of three men and the wounding of another three. “I’m terribly sorry about getting your men killed. The Chinese attack was so sudden, and we didn’t have prepared sites to shoot from…” His voice trailed off, and the XO could hear that Calvin felt the loss of the soldiers on a deep personal basis.

  “I know, sir,” said the XO quietly. “Losing men under your command is never easy. Just make sure that you do your best by them and make their sacrifice worthwhile. In this case, it certainly was, as you were able to complete your mission and recover the nuclear weapons. You also destroyed a whole lot of equipment that the Chinese won’t be able to replace very easily.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, Top was very impressed with your courage under fire and ability to adapt the plan to the changing situation. For your first time in combat, real combat on the ground with people trying to kill you, you did very well. Top even said you’d make a good Ranger, once we got you into shape.”

  Calvin chuckled, his mood lightening a little. “Yeah, I know. I intend to get into the gym more once this is over.”

  The XO smiled, “Well let me know. I still have the Chief of Staff’s personal number from when he called me earlier; maybe something can be arranged.” He turned serious again as he started to walk back to the rest of the group. “Is there anything I can do for you before I take these prisoners somewhere a little safer?”

  “Well, XO,” Calvin replied, “you wouldn’t happen to have a bunch of ammo that you’re not using just sitting around, would you?” Handing off the Chinese prisoners had solved one of their problems, but it did nothing to help with the ammunition situation. They still had tasks that needed to be completed, but without ammunition, their weapons were useless. Master Chief’s armory was no longer an option, either; the initial attack had depleted most of its stores.

  “The only place I know with a big store of ammunition is the armory on base,” said the XO, “but the Chinese are holding it pretty tightly. I know it was heavily guarded last night when we looked.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” said Calvin. “We may need to borrow the rest of the unit in order to get onto base and break into the armory.

  “Well, that can certainly be done,” said the XO. “That would pretty much fall right into our line of work. Rangers lead the way!” said the XO in a loud voice, quoting the Ranger motto.

  “Hoo-ah!” shouted all of the Rangers within earshot. Calvin realized that the XO had probably said it for their benefit, just to get them pumped up. They may not like their CO, thought Calvin, but they like their XO. He was a leader that men would willingly follow into battle.

  “Before you go and do that, sirs, how about we just go to The Marksman?” asked Private Li.

  “The marksman?” chorused the XO and Calvin simultaneously. “We already have enough shooters,” said Calvin. “We need ammo.”

  “Not, the marksman,” said Jet, “but ‘The Marksman,’ with capital letters. It’s a store just to the east of Fort Lewis in Tacoma.” There was a collective “Oh, yeah” from the majority of the Rangers, who obviously knew what he was talking about. “The Marksman is a giant gun store,” Jet continued. “It’s got everything you need to shoot. It services military customers, the reserves, the National Guard, the police…just about everyone. It’s got a big shooting range, tons of rifles, shotguns and pistols, and, more importantly, tons and tons of ammo. They even have ammo to fit most of our rifles and machineguns, although they don’t carry grenades. Their motto is, ‘Where Professionals Train;’ or something like that. They may not be able to supply us for World War III, but they might get us through the night.”

  “Yeah,” said the usually withdrawn Tiny, “I go there a lot. They don’t have any fifty caliber ammo for me, but I didn’t use a whole lot at the university, so I’m still set. About the only rifle ammo that they won’t be able to get us is the machine gun stuff, because it’s belt fed and all they have are individual bullets in boxes.”

  “OK,” said Calvin, coming to a quick decision, “here’s what we’re going to do. All of the Rangers will go to The Marksman and clean them out. Get every bullet they’ve got that we can use.” He looked at First Sergeant Smith, “Top, I don’t care what you have to promise him, but get everything they have. Tell him we’ll make good on it once this is over…have him run a tab for us or something. You never know; we may be back. He’s probably got contacts and suppliers. Have him get everything he possibly can from them.

  First Sergeant Smith nodded and said, “I know the owner somewhat. I don’t think it’ll be a problem. He’d probably give us the ammo if it meant kicking Chinese ass; for an IOU, he’ll probably put bows on it as well.” He smiled. “Does this go on the Navy’s tab or the Army’s?”

  “Having talked to the no-kidding CNO today, I feel pretty confident that I have carte blanche from the navy’s budget,” said Calvin. “Put it on my tab.” The Ranger XO looked impressed. This man wasn’t afraid to make a decision when one was needed. He was starting to agree with the Master Chief’s choice to lead the joint special operations force instead of his commanding officer (who he had to admit, was a pain in the ass).

  “All right, the Rangers will go get the ammo and anything else we need from the store,” said Calvin, “and the Master Chief and I will head back to his cabin.” He had already talked to the Master Chief and knew that Ryan w
anted some more explosives. “The command team will meet back at the Sommers’ house after that.” He hated using their house as a rallying point, because he didn’t want to draw Chinese attention to them, but it was convenient to their next mission, and the Rangers knew where it was.

  “OK,” said Calvin, looking around to make sure everyone was in agreement, “Let’s get it done!”

  Main Street Grill, Ames, Ia, 1230 PDT

  “Take that, you motherfuckers!” shouted David Anderson.

  “Excuse me?” asked the waitress walking by.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Anderson, blushing, in a much more normal tone of voice. “I was playing a war game and got a little wrapped up in it.”

  “I understand,” said the waitress, shaking her head. A lot of college students came by the restaurant to use the free wi-fi, and they played a variety of online games. They didn’t buy much, and they tipped even less, but at least they usually had good manners. Usually. She looked at his empty glass. “Can I get you something else?”

  “No, thank you,” the young man said. “Just the check please.”

  When the young man had come in, his eyes had been red and watery, and he looked like he had been crying. Over the last hour, he had appeared to go from sad to angry as he worked on some program on his laptop. All he had ordered during that time was one diet cola. With two free refills. The waitress left the check and sighed as she walked off. He probably wouldn’t tip her for it, either.

  As the waitress left, David Anderson looked back at his laptop screen. A graduate student in computer science at Iowa State University, he had been studying computer network defense for several years. Today, he had used every last bit of that knowledge, plus some tricks that a few of his hacker friends had taught him, to go on the offensive.