The decrease in outgoing fire resulted in an increase in incoming fire, and more rounds began impacting all around them. Worse, the American soldiers could hear the PGZ-95’s motor start up, and Boom Boom knew he only had seconds before the anti-aircraft gun turned them into paste. He looked up to see if the vehicle had started to turn toward the soldiers yet, and the rocket he was attempting to load slipped through his fingers. As Boom Boom fumbled to pick it up, the anti-aircraft gun began to move, and the turret started to traverse in their direction.
Tiny had been doing everything he could to reduce the number of people shooting at the RPG team. Able to view the attack from the roof of the convenience store on the other side of the street, every time he fired, someone died. The problem was one of numbers; for every soldier he shot, four or five more came running out of the hotel. As yet, none of them had noticed that some of the soldiers were falling forward, shot from behind. That couldn’t last forever.
As the PGZ-95 started to move, BTO saw that he was needed, too. “Shit!” he swore as he scooped up his M203 launcher and began firing at the gun. He didn’t think that he could kill it with the grenades, but if he could just distract it a little, he might give the RPG team enough time for another shot.
It worked! He didn’t destroy it, but he did get the crew’s attention as one of his grenades rained shrapnel off the side of the gun. He fired one more grenade as the gun’s turret began turning toward where he and Tiny were hiding on the roof. Seeing that they were out of time, he shouted, “Time to go!” as he pulled Tiny to the back edge of the roof. They jumped off just as the gun opened fire. The two men hit the ground and rolled, coming up running toward the woods as the anti-aircraft gun’s 25mm cannons shredded Ken’s Gas & Grocery.
The guns made a tearing sound as they fired, and many of the soldiers turned to see what the gun was firing at. Fire slackened on Sergeant Morales, and he finally succeeded in mounting the rocket on the RPG launcher. Slapping Woody on the back, he moved to the side to get out of the way of the back blast. Woody took a breath, released it slowly, and fired at the PGZ-95. The rocket launched, arcing across the intervening distance to intersect perfectly with the side of the turret. As it blew up, it caused the detonation of some of the ammunition in the vehicle, as well, blowing the turret completely off the chassis. It came to rest upside down, 10 feet on the opposite side of it.
“That’s it!” yelled Boom Boom. “Let’s get the hell out of here!” The two men turned and ran down the tree line, trying to interpose as many trees as possible between themselves and the people trying to kill them. They ran as hard as they could, with the Chinese in hot pursuit. As he ran, Woody succeeded in loading the final rocket that he had kept in his pack, stopped, turned and fired the platoon’s last thermobaric round. The round hit right in front of their closest pursuers; shredding the first couple of them and killing several more. While the pursuit continued, it slowed noticeably; no one wanted to be the next person to get caught up in a thermobaric detonation.
Some of the pursuit also diverted to the south, as another explosion came from the other side of I-90. Corporal ‘Colonel’ Sanders and Private First Class ‘Nine’ Severn had taken a little longer than expected to get into position, as they had run into several large concentrations of troops. Since the last time that Ryan had been by there, a ‘whole heap’ of men, as the Colonel would later say, had moved into the area. Judging by the numbers they saw, the Americans estimated that at least a battalion’s worth of men (over 1,000) had moved into the valley to stop any American advances from that direction.
The two men were still sneaking through the woods when they heard explosions coming from the north. They weren’t particularly worried about the gun they were hunting going to help its comrades to the north; if it moved, it would have to go right past them. They could hear the vehicle’s motor fire up, and it sounded like it was coming in their direction. As they looked out from the trees, it wasn’t long before they saw it headed north on 468th Avenue, going up to help the Chinese fighting at the truck stop.
It didn’t make it.
Although Jimmy Sanders may have talked slowly, he was a master with most projectile-firing weapons. The RPG launcher was no different. As he looked through the sights at the gun, he thought to himself, ‘It’s not going fast...just lead it a little…no real wind to speak of…FIRE!’ and the rocket sped toward the last PGZ-95, hitting it in the side. The vehicle’s side armor was not enough to stop the grenade, and it penetrated, killing all of the people inside and rendering the gun inoperable. As soon as the RPG launched, the two men headed deeper into the woods, evading the men they knew would soon be after them. They had a head start and wouldn’t be caught.
Edgewick Inn, North Bend, WA, 0430 PDT
Hearing the sounds of the anti-aircraft guns’ detonations, Ryan led the team from the woods to the back of the Edgewick Inn. Sloppy, he thought, not to have guards behind the hotel. They must think themselves pretty safe here. Not in my country, damn it!
He approached the back door of the kitchen, identifiable by all of the cigarette butts that were on the stoop outside where the cooks came out to smoke. He tried the handle, but it was locked. As he shook it, he realized that the door, while locked, had been jimmied so that it didn’t shut all the way. Management must have locked the door so that the cooks couldn’t smoke without locking themselves out; they, in turn, rigged the door so that it wouldn’t shut all the way. Sometimes, smoking saves lives, he laughed to himself.
The men sneaked through the kitchen as explosions and gunfire continued to sound from outside. Ryan reached the service door into the dining room and looked out the window. After the day they were having, he couldn’t believe his luck. There were the Sommers, all tied to chairs. Unfortunately, there were also four Chinese men in the room with them. As he watched, one of the Chinese, an officer from his uniform, backhanded Mr. Sommers, snapping his head around and almost overbalancing him in his chair. He couldn’t hear what the man asked Mr. Sommers, but he obviously didn’t like the answer that Mr. Sommers gave, as he backhanded him the other way, this time knocking his chair over.
He felt the lieutenant stiffen at his side. Oh, shit, he thought; it looked like the women had received a similar treatment. That won’t go over well with the lieutenant. The Chinese officer, who Ryan could now see was a Major, started screaming at the man lying on the floor and made a big show of drawing his pistol. Ryan didn’t like where this was going.
Looking around the kitchen, he saw a bowl of fruit. Grabbing an apple, he put it into Shuteye’s hand. “Go out there and distract them from this door,” he whispered urgently to him.
Shuteye nodded and walked out the door, nonchalantly taking a bite out of the apple so that he wouldn’t have to talk. The Major and the three other men all snapped their heads to Shuteye as he came through the door. “Who are you?” the Major asked. “How did you get in there?”
Shuteye was still wearing his Chinese navy private’s uniform, so he bowed obsequiously as he backed toward the door to the lobby. “I came in the back door from outside,” he mumbled. “I was hungry so I went to get something to eat. So sorry to intrude.”
“What is the navy doing here?” asked the Major. “Who are you?”
“I’m the apple man,” replied Shuteye. “Want one?” He lobbed the apple underhanded to the Major. It arced through the air, and all of the Chinese men’s eyes were focused on it as it traveled toward the Major. They didn’t see Ryan and the rest of the men pour out of the door behind him.
The Major felt a presence behind him and started to turn, but he was too late. Ryan shot him with his suppressed pistol, hitting him twice in the head. The Major dropped, dead. Shifting his aim, he shot a second soldier, the one guarding Mrs. Sommers.
Calvin, the second one in, only had eyes for Sara, and the guard behind her whose hand was starting to draw a pistol from his holster. Calvin’s pistol was already in his hand, though, and he brought it up and fired twice. The
guard fell backward, shot twice in the chest.
Paris and Top both fired twice as they entered the room, hitting the final guard in the chest. All four Chinese soldiers were down.
Ryan and Top checked the guards while Calvin and Paris freed the hostages. Looking at the bullet holes in the guard behind where Sara had been sitting, Ryan asked Top quietly, “Are both of those yours?” Ryan was pretty sure that he was the only one that knew Top had fired.
“Actually, no,” said Top. “Those are both the lieutenant’s. He put them both into the guard’s center of mass while on the run into the room.” He nodded his approval. “He’s a keeper.”
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, “he’s not so bad.” He paused and then finished, “For an officer.”
Calvin gathered the family and was rewarded with a quick kiss on the cheek from Sara after he cut her loose. They went back out through the kitchen with Ryan in the lead, and Top as rear guard. Ryan looked out the door and, seeing no one, went running out with Mrs. Sommers. Shuteye followed with Mr. Sommers, leaving Sara to be escorted by Calvin, something he was happy to do. They made it into the woods and safety, going deeper into the forest as shots and explosions continued from in front of the hotel. Finally, the gunfire slackened and, after a “wuuump” that could only have been the last thermobaric rocket exploding, things got quiet.
Calvin hoped that everyone had made it.
His cheek still tingled.
Snoqualmie National Forest, Washington State, 0545 PDT
Calvin was beat. After rescuing the Sommers, all he could think about was falling down and getting some sleep. When he called the CNO, though, he found out that sleep was not going to be an option for him. He was also surprised by the response when he told Admiral Wright that the platoon had destroyed the PGZ-95s ahead of schedule. Sure, he expected that the CNO and the rest of the senior officers would be happy, but he didn’t expect the over-the-top ecstatic response that he received.
Nor did he expect to be told to go immediately to Ryan’s house in the woods. Instead of getting some long overdue and well deserved sleep, he had instead sent the Sommers family off with Top. The first sergeant would take them to the house of Erika Gardner, one of Sara’s friends, where they would hopefully be safe. They ought to be welcome, too, since Erika was one of the students they had rescued from the University of Washington yesterday (was it only yesterday?) morning.
This whole ‘war’ thing was starting to get into the way of his love life, Calvin thought with a sigh. Maybe the Master Chief did have a point about authority.
After dropping the Sommers family off, all of the Rangers, including the twins in their captured PGZ-95, were going to go to the Boeing Hangar. They could get some rest there, as well as hide yet another piece of captured Chinese equipment. They were starting to have quite a collection. Calvin wondered idly what all of it would sell for on the open market. Or the black market. Or the Fresh Market. Damn, he was getting loopy.
As they came over the hill that looked down onto Ryan’s cabin, Calvin was amazed to see the meadow beyond it. When he had spoken to the CNO, the CNO had said something about “the need would be apparent once you got there.” Although it had been too vague for him to figure out at the time, and Calvin way too tired to care, he could now see that the CNO hadn’t wanted to say anything because he was worried about operational security.
The meadow below Ryan’s house was covered with helicopters. Not just a few here and there, but lots of helicopters, and mostly the big, troop carrying kind. The ‘air assault’ kind. Black. Army. Like ‘Apocalypse Now’ with ‘The Ride of the Valkyries’ playing in the background. Damn, he was babbling to himself again. Gotta focus.
Judging by the patches, it looked like they had been invaded by the ‘Screaming Eagles’ of the 101st Airborne Division. Calvin knew that the 101st was an Army light infantry division trained for air assault operations. It had a storied history, from D-Day landings in World War II, to Hamburger Hill in Vietnam, to Iraq and Afghanistan. It was one of the most highly decorated units in the U.S. Army. Although it went to Vietnam as an airborne unit, it was reorganized and re-designated as an airmobile division, and then finally as an air assault division as it went from using airplanes as its primary method of going to war to using helicopters.
Regardless, there were a lot of helicopters on the field, as well as an army of soldiers in and around them. The soldiers looked like they were readying themselves for battle; they were checking various pieces of their gear, cleaning their weapons, and generally standing around looking nervous. Probably like he had been yesterday morning before going into battle…when he had enough energy to stand up straight.
As they approached the cabin, a first sergeant jogged up to them. “Are you Master Chief O’Leary?” he asked.
“Guilty as charged,” said Master Chief, sounding annoyed.
The first sergeant looked at Calvin, who was still wearing one of Corporal Sanders’ uniforms. “Ummm, there was supposed to be a lieutenant with you. Is Lieutenant Hobbs going to be along shortly?”
“That’s the lieutenant right there,” said Master Chief. “He had a uniform emergency and needed to borrow one of our troop’s uniforms, so that he didn’t look like a bag lady.” He looked pointedly at the helicopters. “Can you please tell me what the hell the entire 101st Division’s doing trampling down my lawn?” He looked at Calvin. “Sir, did you invite your friends over without asking permission first?”
“If I did,” Calvin answered, “I’m too tired to remember doing it.”
“Well, sir,” said the first sergeant, finally understanding that Corporal Sanders was Lieutenant Hobbs, “we’ve been waiting for you for a couple of hours now. The colonel requests your presence in the cabin as soon as possible. They’re holding up the briefing for you.”
“Summoned into my own damn house?” asked Master Chief. “See what I mean, lieutenant? Damn officers come, invite themselves into your house, make themselves at home, and then summon you into it like you don’t belong there. Ain’t that some shit?”
“I’m with you, Master Chief” said Calvin. “Personally, I’m too damn tired to be summoned. I think I may just go join the unit at the Gardner’s house.” The Master Chief could see his eyes looked a little dreamy. And tired. Very, very tired.
The first sergeant looked worried. “Umm, sir, we’re kind of holding up a major battle, just to wait for you two. People are dying that might not have to. American people. If you could please come inside, I’m sure they’d greatly appreciate it.”
Calvin sighed heavily. “All right. C’mon Master Chief, let’s go see what the colonel wants.” He cocked his head. “Maybe it will be for us to get our crew rest.”
“Probably not,” the Master Chief grumbled.
“You’re right, probably not,” Calvin agreed. Looking at the first sergeant, he asked, “Who’s the colonel, and who are you guys?”
“The colonel is Colonel Colin Daly, and we’re the 1st Battalion of the 506th Infantry Regiment.” As the first sergeant said that, five soldiers that were within earshot all chorused the unit motto, “Currahee!” which was Cherokee for “Stands Alone!”
The three men walked into the house to find the main room full of men in uniform. Calvin recognized a couple of Ryan’s Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR) friends, but the rest of them must have come with the helicopters.
The first sergeant coughed to get the colonel’s attention. Looking up, the colonel said gruffly, “Hmph, ‘bout time. Glad you could be bothered to join us.”
Calvin could see the Master Chief bristling. For that matter, he felt kind of bristly, himself. He decided to try and extend an olive branch first. “Gee, sir, we’ve been pretty busy stealing nukes and rescuing damsels in distress for the last 24 hours. Did we forget an important staff meeting?” OK, that wasn’t really an olive branch, but he had meant to be nice when he started.
“We have been waiting for you since before dawn. The battle has started out there
, and people are dying. You were supposed to give us an intel brief so that we could get into the fight.”
“Colonel, let me ask you a question. How much would you like to fly over five anti-aircraft guns that have four-barrels and four SAMs attached to them on the way to the fight? Would that be a lot of fun for you?” Calvin almost kept the sarcasm out of his voice. Almost. “What we’ve been doing, while you were ‘waiting to get into the fight,’ was destroying them so that you could get into the fight without dying along the way. Now, I haven’t slept in over 24 hours, I’ve been shot at more times than I can count, and I’ve killed people at close range, something aviators generally don’t do. So, please don’t give me any more shit while I’m trying to help you, and, unless you want to see my next kill up close, tell your sergeant NOT TO DRINK THE LAST CUP OF COFFEE IN THE POT!”
The sergeant in question put down the pot. Ryan went over, poured the last cup and brought it to Calvin. He tried really hard not to smile at the colonel’s sudden embarrassment, but failed. Hell, he was tired, too.
Cup of coffee in hand, Calvin sighed. “Sorry, sir,” he said, giving the colonel a chance to be back in charge again. “What can I do to help you?”
Willing to move on so that he could be about his business, the colonel used a little more moderate tone. “Well, if you got rid of the anti-aircraft guns, you’ve made my life a lot easier.” It was almost an apology, Calvin noticed. Almost. The colonel continued, “I understand that your unit also got rid of the HQ-19 missile system, too?”
“Yeah, we did,” said Calvin. “Actually, that one was pretty fun. You should see what a 100 pounds of explosives can do to a radar vehicle. I understand the explosion was visible from orbit.”
Occupied Seattle (Occupied Seattle Book 2) Page 17