Urban Guerrilla

by Leo Nix

  Just as Cambra was topping up the water in the four-wheel drive radiator there came the sound of a gunshot then two more in quick succession. Three shots, that meant enemy approaching - emergency!

  He sprang for his weapons and called to McFly and John, but they were already out of their caravans strapping on their webbing. John carried their precious Javelin anti-tank missile launcher, he had his AK47 strap over his shoulder. McFly carried extra missiles for the Javelin along with his rifle, together they raced for their ambush positions.

  “What have we got, Creed?” asked Cambra when he saw Assassin looking through their precious night-vision binoculars.

  “Four vehicles, no lights, probably using IR or light-enhanced vision to drive. Slow speed, cautious. They don't look like Crusaders though. Have a look yourself.” He handed the binoculars to Cambra.

  “It doesn't look like any of the vehicles we saw at Marree last night, Cambra. I've not seen them in our army before either,” came Chan's comment as he handed his scoped Blaser sniper rifle for John to look through.

  “Looks like Bushmasters. Might be regular army, might be from Alice Springs. This is weird.” Cambra handed the glasses to McFly who was readying the Javelin with John.

  McFly stood up and looked carefully as well. “Looks like the cavalry, armoured cavalry. Shit, we're screwed if it isn't ours.” He handed the binoculars back and finished setting up the anti-tank missile launcher, they just might be needing it he decided.

  “Not ours, Cambra,” said John quietly, “but they do look like Bushmasters. That front one is heavily armoured, if they attack we'll get slaughtered. Looks like 7.62 mm machine gun mounted and the one behind is armed with 25 mm cannons… oh wow, it's an ASLAV. We're either screwed or we're saved,” mumbled John as he handed the sniper rifle back to his best friend, Chan.

  The four looked at Cambra expectantly. No one hesitated in their preparations for the coming fight, but they knew a fight against armoured cavalry would cost them dearly. Against four heavily armoured vehicles they could all be killed. Even their Javelin wouldn't save them. Sure, it would take out the first vehicle but with a cool down time of thirty plus seconds on a cold day that would give their enemy enough time to locate and pummel their position with the 25 mm cannon and 7.62 mm machine guns. It would be a slaughter.

  “Shit,” Cambra whispered, “why me?” As patrol commander, Cambra had proven his tactical skill in many hit and run attacks on the enemy, but today, he realised he was being handed a real test.

  “OK, fellas, I'm going out with the bike and flash the headlights at them. Maybe they are ours, if they fire then fuck them over for me and tell my family I love them. Then get on your bikes and try to escape. Assassin, get on the CB and inform Sundown, now. If we're captured, Chan, you and John stay low-key and no one mention they're Deaths Heads. Remember your escape, evade and capture protocols. Has everyone got that?” The boys looked at each other then nodded as Cambra ran off to bring his bike up on to the road.

  Moments later the four vehicles stopped a hundred metres away and the commando patrol watched as two soldiers emerged from the armoured vehicles. They walked towards Cambra and his bike.

  Assassin returned from his report. “Sundown said we retreat or give ourselves up, we're not to fight against armoured cavalry. Those Bushmasters can reach a hundred kph, faster than our bikes. I think we might be in deep shit fella's so let's pray they're ours. He'll be on his way with a heavy patrol as soon as he can.”

  “Damn it!” Sundown's voice exploded into the mic, then he calmed down. “Righto, got you, Assassin. I'm preparing a patrol now. If friendly ask them to wait for me, if not, give yourselves up. I mean that, no Clint Eastwood heroics, just hand them your weapons. We'll come and rescue you as soon as we can. Remember your protocols for capture. I'll stay open channel all the way there, get back to us as soon as you can. Good luck, out.”

  Pedro was still in the first-aid room with Lorraine getting his stumps dressed. He seemed to spend more time there than anywhere else. `Poor beggar, he hasn't been the same since we lost Shamus. I better have a quick chat with him before we head out', Sundown promised himself.

  Sundown turned and stared at Pellino who was in shock too, then he cursed again. “Shit! Pellino, can you please call everybody to the lounge, we need to start moving them to safety.”

  He stood up and leaned against the wall. Just when he thought they were ready to send a patrol to Alice Springs and contact the army base for support, or move to the Flinders Ranges, this had to happen. He pulled at his nose and rubbed his face in his hands.

  `I am so tired of this,' he said to himself as he passed more orders to Andy who had just rushed in.

  A minute later he heard, “Honey, come on down,” it was his wife, “we're preparing dinner so everyone can eat while Wiram prepares the patrol. Don't worry, darl, Wiram has things under control and Harry's organising the vehicles right now.” Pinkie walked over and stroked his hair as she pulled him to her. “Just when we start getting our love-life back on track another disaster like this has to happen,” she said, her lips on his forehead.

  Pinkie stopped when she heard Fat Boy calling from the dining room, “Come and get it!”

  She ran down the hallway leading Sundown by the hand and held the door open as the oldies were wheeled in by Lulu and Danni. Fat Boy called over a pot of stew he was carefully lowering on to the table. “… and Billie, I didn't have time to add rum to your tea. Sorry old mate, you'll have to miss out this time.”

  Billie smiled and held up the hip flask Pedro had given him months ago, “ `Be prepared' is me motto, Fat Fella, never without a drop of the ol' mount'n dew,” he chuckled, his toothless grin always made Fat Boy smile.

  “Fat Boy, you coming out with us? We'll be needing a cook.” Halo chuckled and slapped his mate on the back as he groped at the food on the heavily laden table.

  “Nope, I've never been separated from me bike or me food, ever. Anyone who stands between me and them generally gets flattened.” He shifted his bulk so that Blondie could sit beside him.

  Fat Boy looked around and noticed there was no Pedro and his voice roared across the dining room, “Where's me skinny twin brother?”

  Everyone stopped and looked around. Lulu yelled in answer, “He's around the back having a smoke for dinner. I'll go get him for ya.” She scurried off.

  “No sweat, I'll go get the bastard. He's not ducking out of a Fat Boy feed. I cook, everyone eats!” and he lifted his bulk out of his chair and swaggered out after Lulu.

  The two wheeled Pedro into the dining room. He appeared to have shrunk in size and his smile hid his sadness. “What's ya doing with me, can't an old fella have a smoke by himself away from this damn noisy crowd?” he pretended to protest.

  “Now, Mini-me,” said Fat Boy, in as delicate a voice as he could, “I thought I told you I was cooking tonight? And how many times have I told you to come and get me if you feel crook and can't eat anything? I'll get some stewed prunes, they'll clean you out and shift that morose mood of yours.”

  Pedro sat there and scooped some food onto his spoon and ate a few mouthfuls, just to please his giant friend.

  “Hey, Blondie, how'd you go doing the CB training with Gail and Beamy?” asked Bill, who had just joined them at the table.

  “I suggested they fix the antennae and tune the set properly. We need more distance and that might improve the reception.” Blondie was a bottle blond and since her arrival her natural brunette colour had taken over. She always looked stunning no matter what colour her hair.

  “Smarty pants, don't you go showing those two up now or I'll get Cambra to sort you out,” smiled Bill as he reached for a plate of stewed kangaroo and camel with a mix of bush spices.

  “Ah, Bill, promises promises. You know he already has two gorgeous girls at his beck and call, he certainly doesn't need me to fuss over as well.” Blondie had fended off unwanted advances all her life and idle banter was one thing she excelled at, when
she felt like it.

  “Halo, hows the weapons training going with the girls?” Sundown had walked over to the group, his mind a million miles away thinking of every possible thing that could go wrong.

  “They're fine, Sundown, really. They can shoot the pea out of a pod at a hundred paces,” replied Halo opening his mouth wide as he shoveled more food in as though competing in an eating contest with Assassin.

  “OK, good, they'll go with you and the civilians. You're going to be in command of `Team Safe-House', and make sure you arm Danni, Lulu and Bill. You'll protect our civilians at all costs.” Sundown looked up and saw Bill staring at him. “Bill, I don't want you exposed to action right now, sorry. I need you to get that plane sorted because I have a special job for you. I'll be keeping Donna, though. She's going to be my batgirl - you know, Batman, the one who runs errands. I want her close to me so she'll be safe.” Bill nodded understandingly, then he chuckled.

  Shadow sat down and said, “Sundown, you mean Donna's going to be `Robin to your Batman'.”

  “Blimey, how the hell can I compete with all these brainiacs around me. I just want her to run my errands and be safe.” Sundown wasn't sure if Shadow was having a go at him or not.

  “Safe? Next to you?” Bill swallowed another mouthful of camel meat. “You're a bloody berserker!”

  “Damn it, Bill! I'm trying to do my best you know. I don't need this shit.” Sundown sat down and rubbed at his face again. It felt too hot inside the hotel's dining room and he was sweating.

  “Harden up, princess,” said Fat Boy sitting opposite him, “we'll get through this. According to Halo you always do.” He roared with laughter and slapped his hand down on the table. Sundown coughed nervously and looked around, everyone was watching.

  “I'm sorry, I'm just worried. We've not heard a thing since Assassin called.” He nodded `thank you' as Pinkie put a plate of food in front of him and handed him a spoon.

  “Come on eat up, you and Wiram have a patrol to attend to don't you?” She stroked his head and began eating.

  “Tricia? Where's Tricia?” Sundown dropped his spoon midway to his mouth.

  “Umm, she's on her way to sort out the trucks and vehicles for transport to our safe place,” said Halo, a blush forming on his face.

  “You mean she's still in your bed keeping it warm,” roared Fat Boy. He just loved the sound of his own voice booming above everyone else's, especially when it was stirring someone up, like it did now.

  “Fat Boy, steady on now,” said Blondie dryly, “you know you could upset someone with your humour.”

  “Shut up, Fat Boy!” said Halo. “She left my room an hour ago anyway. Besides Tricia really is outside preparing for the move. So jam that up your hairy butt and eat it!” He smiled and slapped Fat Boy on the back. The hollow sound echoed around the dining room.

  Sundown was only a minute into his meal when Pellino came running into the dining room. Seeing Sundown he walked quickly to his side and bent down to speak into his ear.

  Breathlessly he said, “Boss, Assassin called, they're ours! It's the bloody Australian Army!”

  Chapter 19 - Sundown - Alice Springs Command

  The two officers greeted Cambra formally then inquired as to his unit and strength. Cambra politely asked them the same questions, it was a stalemate.

  “How do I know who you are? How can you prove to me that you're on the side of the Australian people and not the Revelationists?” Cambra stood with an AK47 slung over his shoulder and a look of controlled resolve on his face. Even in the dark he could be imposing.

  “We could ask the same thing of you, mate,” said the one who introduced himself as Major Thompson. “Now stop stuffing us around and answer our questions or we might have to consider you our enemy. We would then have to shoot you and your four mates over there.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the ambush.

  Cambra looked at the major, his brain working overtime, `how did he know that?' Then he realised they were no doubt using IR and light-enhanced optics as Assassin had suggested.

  “OK, I'll go first then shall I? We're a forward patrol of Sundown's Commando. We've been playing hit and run with the Deaths Heads, Stosstruppen, and any other Nazified Revelationists now based in Marree. We've had three major battles with them over the past 10 months - and we've won them all.” He stopped and smiled smugly.

  “We know all about you lot, nice work too. In that case,” the major stretched out his hand, “I would like to congratulate your commando and welcome you to our Alice Springs Command, Australian Third Army.”

  Cambra decided he would invite them to spend the night at their camp site.

  The major turned to his second in command, “Captain Lewis, inform the men we'll be bivouacking tonight with the famous `Sundown's Commando'.” Turning back to Cambra he replied, “Thank you, we are honoured.”

  McFly walked around the ASLAV with Chan, “I bet Halo would give his eye teeth to be here with us. If only he could see what he's missing, the first contact with our own army, at last.”

  Cambra and the major walked along the road together and talked quietly of events since the apocalypse.

  “We've been fighting almost non-stop against their army. They've pushed us but each time we've held and pushed them back,” explained Cambra. “We seem to be one step ahead of them. Our commander, Sundown, he's incredible, a real leader of men, he thinks and plans ahead. He also has a dedicated team behind him. We only have one ex-military left in action. Wiram's been our corner-stone, organising patrols and making sure we have everything we need. We have Pedro, he's a great old bloke, but sadly, he's had a bad time since our strategist, Shamus, was killed. But now you're here we can ease back a little, eh. That would be nice for a change.”

  “Ahhmm,” the major cleared his throat politely. “I'm terribly sorry, Cambra, but we aren't here to relieve you, nor are we here to protect your community. We're a recon patrol only. Our orders are to avoid all contact with the enemy unless fired upon. My goal right now is to contact Sundown and talk with him. We wish to invite him to come back with us, to see what we can sort out regarding a permanent standing patrol at Birdsville or Marree.”

  “No sweat, major, just susing you out, that's all,” Cambra smiled innocently. “Come on back to the fire, we've got a few bottles of spirits left, that should keep the cold out.”

  The major's eyes lit up. “Spirits? My health to you good sir! We ran out of decent alcohol six months ago. All we've had is vile, gut-rot some of the locals brew up, absolute rubbish. Lead on, Gunga Din.”

  The group shared their food and then began some heavy drinking until the patrol's alcohol was gone.

  “Sorry fella's, but one more bottle then that's it,” announced McFly with a slight wobble. Careful not to spill any he poured a finger of spirits into each man's mug then slurred, “Now where's my guitar, I have a need to sing.” So they sang bush ballads and a few pop songs, chatted some and finished by telling stories of their fighting exploits.

  Cambra told his story of the fight at the mines, the spinifex fire bombs and the one hundred kilometre walk with Wiram, twice. McFly then told them of the dreadful battle of Marree. As he spoke no one uttered a sound, no one moved. He stopped near the end and began to cry.

  McFly was drunk, like everyone else, but telling that story evoked what he felt when he heard Sundown going berserk. He still heard the screams of the women and their strangled groans as they were bashed; he felt the helplessness of trying to get down the stairs through the hail of enemy machine gun fire to rescue his friends; he saw the image of Halo sitting semi-conscious rocking and moaning; Pinkie holding onto Sundown looking up at him like she was looking at a monster; Sundown standing in a daze; the laundry with its mess of guts and body parts; the smell of death; he lived it all over again in the telling. It still haunted him, often waking himself in the middle of the night with his own screaming.

  Sergeant Doff, one of the experienced cavalry NCO's stood up and put his arm aroun
d the young man and sat him down. He spoke quietly until McFly settled down. Then he handed McFly his last nip of scotch. The fly fisherman downed it in one gulp.

  “Thanks mate. Fark, I'm so sorry about all that,” he said to everyone around the camp-fire.

  He blew his nose and wiped his eyes. “I never want to go through that shit again.” Then he bent over and vomited. “Darn, that's the last of your grog too, sorry, mate,” he sputtered and fell back into the sergeant's arms, he was out cold.

  Assassin then told them some of the tales he'd heard from Halo, the commando's self appointed historian and story teller. “Halo even got the girls to sew up a flag with our battle honours on it. We now have three pitched battles: The Mines, Marree and Birdsville. The Mines was a major battle where we lost our strategist, Shamus. It was followed by three running battles and ambushes. I missed nearly all of it though. I got a bullet in the arm and then was knocked out.”

  He rolled up his sleeve to show his scar and the soldiers gathered around to `hum' and `haw' their approval in the firelight.

  “And then a bloody poisonous spider bit me. It pisses me off no end. I should have been there to help my mates.” He went silent for a moment then brightened.

  “But that flag, you should see it. A yellow rising sun, or actually it's supposed to be the setting sun to represent `Sundown'. It's got rays coming out of it, those girls did a great job. Then there's the red of the blood we spill of our enemy and the red sands of the desert. And then the black of the… I don't really know if there is black in it…” his voice trailed off, lost.

  Cambra spoke up, “You dopey bugger, Creed. It's yellow for the desert sun and Sundown's rays; red for the sands and our enemy's blood above and… shit! You're right, there is black in it too, black is below the sun.” Cambra smiled, announcing proudly: “My girls are aboriginal and they have a way of making a statement. My goodness, they've used the background of the Aboriginal flag, how clever of them.” He laughed as he turned to the mesmerised crowd. “Do you know what they did when I rescued them? I mean, when our commando rescued them at the mines?” And that was the start of another story of Shamus, the mines, the fire-fight, Beamy's grenade launcher and the Bofors. The story took a lot of retelling before the soldiers were satisfied.