by Charles Lamb
Once they hit the landing strip, Jake jumped out of the vehicle ahead of Sara, and opened the hatch in the floor of their helicopter. As was typical for most of their helicopters, it held an assortment of rifles and handguns with ammo. He pulled out two belts with holstered sidearms and two spare magazines in a separate pouch. As Sara belted hers on, Jake grabbed a pair of the 5.56 mm rifles they were all very familiar with, and handed her one with two extra magazines for the rifle.
Closing the hatch, he helped her climb aboard, following her in and then gave ALICE the all clear while grabbing the seat next to her. Mimicking Jake’s actions, she pocketed the spare magazines in the pouches along her thighs and then checked the rifle to verify the magazine in the well was full, rifle cocked and on safe and then racked it for the trip. After stowing her rifle, she then did the same check with her sidearm, re-holstering it once she was satisfied.
Once both their helmets were on, ALICE closed the doors and lifted off, swinging back over the beach and then off to the northeast. With no more than 20 minutes in the air, they started descending at what Sara recognized as the old Santa Catalina Island airstrip. Jake once mentioned he had considered using this location as a jumping off point for LA activities.
Rather than pepper him with all the questions rolling around in her head, Sara chose to wait for him to explain. She could see he was talking although she didn’t hear a sound in her helmet, which meant he was talking with ALICE. As the helicopter settled to one side of the airstrip, Jake finally spoke up on the open circuit.
“ALICE, how far out are they?”
“About 20 more minutes,” was her reply.
With that, Jake indicated Sara should head out the open door, so with him in her wake she jumped out and turned to watch him follow.
“Are you sure you’re ok to do this?” she asked, as he was obviously moving slowly.
“I’ll be fine,” was all he offered in return.
After about 15 minutes, Jake pointed to the east. With the magnification in her helmet turned up, she could see one of the heavy transport aircraft approaching. It was the same type of aircraft they had used for their trip to Alaska. She thought she remembered Jake calling it a V-27 Falcon. As it closed on their location, she zoomed back until, at normal magnification, she watched it slow to a stop, and then settle at the end of the airstrip near their helicopter.
Leading her around to the back of the aircraft, Sara stood with Jake and watched as the rear ramp dropped. Standing before them were eight fully combat suited individuals, Joe and Abby identifiable in the center of the group. At that point, Jake stepped forward and announced, “Sara, may I introduce my Cavalry, the Odd Squad!”
----*----
Jake had always known they would need to go into LA at some point. It was the one area, in the southwest, that was the source of 90% of their grief. It was also one large piece of property. Taking out the big players was not Jake’s concern. It was stabilizing the area after that was the issue. Realistically, there was no way they could just go in and occupy it all, once they subdued the troublemakers.
What Jake needed was a small, mobile, quick moving force to hit fast and hard, and then move on. Historically the cavalry was such a force, giving troops a mechanism that multiplied the fighting value of even the smallest forces. It allowed them to outflank, create surprise and overpower, or to retreat and escape according to the requirements of the moment.
Examples in more modern times, the SAS Mobility Troop, USMC Force Recon, and the US Navy Seals all used small fast vehicles to move quickly and quietly for stealthy operations or come in fast and hard, weapons heavy and packing one hell of a punch. All this was Jake’s inspiration for the Odd Squad.
Once he settled on a vision, he set about picking and choosing the best attributes of the Special Forces units he had worked with in the past or known about. With that vision in mind, he developed a training plan that would test even the best available candidates. He had training environments set up in several of the ALICE locations, but had all personnel involved sworn to secrecy. It was Jake’s experience that, while everyone thought he or she was Special Forces material, so very few actually were.
He had the ALICEs scour the entire internal personnel list of available staff and any known outside resources. From there he reduced it to just the top 20 candidates. They examined everything from physical capabilities, to mental discipline. They wanted people who can work well independently or in a team and they must be a real self-starter. Above all, he wanted people with a “no quit” attitude. Not only do they need to be able to push through an issue, but they should be able to think it through as well.
It was no real surprise to him that Abby and Joe appeared on the list, but what was a shock was the people that were not. None of Jake’s core team qualified for various reasons, all-reasonable judgments in his opinion. There were a couple of Robert’s Texans there, but far fewer than he would have liked.
There were three outsiders, all patrol members that made the top 10. Jake had ALICE immediately initiate recruitment procedures. Thankfully, all that was complete well before the ALICE-4 incident. In fact, Abby and Joe’s teams were in Washington, supporting the recruitment as part of Jake’s final training activities.
The eight individuals standing before Jake and Sara represented the two 4-person teams Jake had assembled and trained as his prototype units. The second half of his master plan was what was behind them.
“Odd Squad, Jake?” was all Sara could say in reply.
“Ok, so when we got the first group together, my initial reaction was that’s the oddest group of people I have ever seen,” he replied.
----*----
Sara had to admit, looking them over from right to left they were a mismatched group. At 6’4”, Joe easily towered over the other seven as the tallest, while the shortest could not have been 5 foot tall with her boots on.
She guessed from their builds, as all had helmets on, that they were about 60/40, with women outnumbering the men, which was a surprise even to her. She would have expected this to be a male dominated combat team.
----*----
“Ok gang, lets unload,” Jake shouted to the group in the plane.
With that, the eight disappeared back into the aircraft and for the first time Jake and Sara could clearly make out the equipment behind the squad.
Each of the squad members climbed onto their own contrivance, and two by two, they started down the ramp, all hovering about two feet off the ramp and then the ground. As they passed Sara and Jake, they turned to line up, four to the right and four to the left of where Jake and Sara stood behind the aircraft. Once stopped in place, they settled on skids, the entire operation completely quiet.
Once everyone was off loaded and in place, it was easy to see they each rode an identical transport, sitting astride in the middle of it, as one would ride a horse. The rider sat behind some form of a tapered shield, while holding on to handle bars to direct the craft.
Each craft was about 12 feet long, front to rear and was sloped to a blunted point at the front. Starting at the nose, you could make out that each held two machineguns, split on the centerline with a third larger barrel placed between them on center. Behind the guns is where the tapered shield started up sharply, stopping just before the riders position. The shield spread wide, wrapping slightly at the sides to protect the legs and was high enough in the center, presenting just a helmeted head when viewed from the front.
The seat area was only large enough for one rider, saddled and padded for comfort, and right behind was a backrest on a box like structure, slightly taller than the shield. The box was as wide as the craft, side-to-side, and continued on for another three feet behind the rider. Behind the box was about eighteen inches of vehicle at the riders seat height and then it abruptly terminated into a squared off rear end.
In the rider area, behind the shield, you could see several controls, screens and gauges, as well as the handlebar controls. There were running boa
rds down each side for the rider’s feet, the boards running all the way to the box behind.
Jake watched as Sara walked over to one and after examining it closely looked up to ask, “Jake this thing looks a lot like those motorcycles you showed me pictures of?”
Jake smiled, remembering the discussion. They were talking about his hobbies and interests in his earlier life before all this. He had been a huge motorcycle fan, riding both street and dirt bikes for most of his teenage and adult life. He nodded and then replied, “Yes, that was part of my inspiration,” he then motioned for Sara to follow him into the aircraft. Climbing the ramp and then going inside, they could see one more of the craft, sitting unclaimed.
Jake walked to one side, and as Sara watch, he reached behind the shield and pressed a button. As Sara watched, the box on this craft started to slide backwards. As it did, exposing a rear seat and more running board until there was enough space for two riders.
Indicating for Sara to take the rear spot, Jake waited until she seated herself before climbing on. Once both were settled in, Jake hit the power button and the craft gently lifted, hovering about the same distance as the others above the aircraft cargo bay floor. Grabbing the handlebars, he gently twisted the right grip, causing the craft to glide forwarded until they were out of the aircraft and centered on the runway between the eight others lining the opening behind the aircraft.
Releasing the grip, which returned to its idle position, the craft stopped and then Jake hit the power, allowing the craft to settle gently to the ground. Climbing off, he indicated for Sara to do the same and then he walked to the rear and opened the lid on the top of the box, while motioning for Sara to look inside.
Looking inside, both could see two deep rows, one on each side, which held several rifles in vertical slots. The center area between the two was a tray like depression, holding pistols, ammo pouches and various other instruments of destruction. Motioning for Sara to step back he pushed another button inside the tray area and the back of the box split into two doors, exposing several drawers and pockets containing various supplies and other equipment.
“Each hover cycle can hold enough supplies and equipment for a month’s excursion in the field,” Jake stated.
“Hover Cycle?” Sara asked.
Jake smiled a bit sheepishly, “Yeah, that’s what I call them. I built them around one of the small cylindrical repulser motors, like the ones we used for the rail gun platforms. No fans or thrusters required they just float in the gravity field. Each can run on a charge for about two to three weeks and all carry four additional charge packs in the rear storage box. We did have to de-tune them though as they were capable of speeds far greater than the riders could endure. There is no inertial dampening on these.”
Moving back to the riders position and motioning for Sara to follow, he continued, “They really operate just like a motorcycle, once they are powered up, you just twist the throttle and steer with the handlebars. The one big difference is these will fly,” he said with a huge smile on his face.
“Fly?” Sara asked.
“Cool, huh!” Jake answered, “Once you are moving, a small pull on the handlebars and it will nose up and you gain altitude, push forward and it goes down. Pull right or left to turn, roll back on the throttle to stop. As long as power is on, it will hover at whatever altitude you stop at and it will never go below two feet off the deck or AGL, which is Above Ground Level. As long as you are in motion, you are good. In theory you can’t crash into the ground but we have, however, proven that it is possible to wreck one in flight,” Jake completed that last part while looking directly at Joe.
“Hey, you were the one who was showing off on the first model,” Joe said defensively, and then said to Sara, “Jake is the only one so far who can do a complete 360 loop and come out going the right direction,” he finished.
Apparently choosing to ignore the relevance of Jake doing stunts on a prototype, she asked, “What are the levers for by the grips?”
“The one on the left is for reverse, pull in the lever and the motor moves backwards instead of forward, the one on the right is a panic brake. Rather than a smooth deceleration via the throttle, grab that lever and hold on,” he finished. On the running boards just behind the shield, she could make out a foot pedal on each side of the driver’s seat.
“What are those for,” Sara asked.
Jake replied, “Back in the day, a Cavalry Trooper could control his horse by pressure from their legs and knees on the horse’s sides. This freed up their hands for fighting. The pedal on the right controls forward and reverse, the one on the left turns right and left. Once you let go of the handlebars these allow you to control the hover cycle. You can’t change altitude, but everything else works.”
“Ok Jake, so besides a new toy, this is all in aid of?” Sara asked somewhat skeptically.
“Like I said, Cavalry,” Jake replied, “we will never have enough troops to go anywhere and overrun a position with straight infantry. We need a small unit that hits like a big one. Each of these has two 7.62 machineguns and an energy cannon. They will do over 200 miles per hour, though we try to keep them under 150. Like our fighter squadrons, they are four to a unit, called a troop. Collectively this is the 10th Cavalry.”
“10th?” Sara asked, “what about the other 9?”
Abby chimed in, “Jake explained that the 10th Cavalry was a unit with a reputation of fierce fighters who overcame overwhelming odds on many occasions,” pausing with a confused look, she continued, “I didn’t understand the relevance of them all being black, but Joe’s black so it works for us either way!”
----*----
Sara shrugged at the relevance of that statement as well, why would anyone care what color your skin was? Who had time for such nonsense? The world today was a melding of individuals all just trying to survive. Your value was what you brought to the table for survival, not how you looked. Looking around at the assembled team, she could see a mixture of family histories and ethnic backgrounds. Most, like her, had no idea where her family came from pre-attack.
“OK, Jake, so what are we going to do with cavalry?” Sara asked.
She watched as Jake stepped to the rear of his hover cycle and activated a screen on the inside of one of the open doors. A map appeared and on it, and she could make out Catalina Island, where they were all currently, and the LA mainland. There was a blinking red dot, far inland, which she assumed was their destination.
Jake began, pointing at the island, “we are here, the abandoned transport is here,” he said pointing at the dot.
“We are about 60 miles away, which means we can be there in about 35 minutes easily. On the way here, I identified several tall building in the surrounding area where I want each of the two person teams to position themselves. We will split into separate groups here,” Jake indicated a spot about 10 miles out from the target location, “come in low behind your vantage spot and pop up at the last moment to minimize the possibility of being spotted. Once everyone is in position you will wait for my instructions,” Jake finished.
Chapter 8
Jake completed his briefing and started closing up the side panels on the box on the back of his hover cycle, while leaving the lid up. While he was getting things in order, he asked Sara to retrieve the two rifles from their helicopter and place them in the open spots in the box. As she was doing as asked, Jake watched her pull the light cavalry saber out of its scabbard from within the box and hold it up, facing Jake.
“What the hell is this?” she asked him, waving it around in front of her.
Before he could reply, Abby jumped in, “That’s our saber, and Jake has had us practicing with those things for weeks. He says all cavalry troopers need one.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sara asked Jake.
“Excellence is built on tradition,” he replied, “the Gurkha’s of Nepal had their Kurkuri, and the Soviet Spetsnaz had their throwing shovels. Cavalry troopers need sabers.”
“
You expect them to fight with these?” She asked, holding it out in front of her in an on guard position.
“No, I expect them to scare the crap outta the bad guys,” he replied with a smile, “I would rather have them scare people into submission than kill dozens to gain their cooperation.”
“Jake explained that most of the blade is actually blunted, it’s only close to the tip that’s sharpened,” one of the troopers next to Abby contributed “it’s intended to injure, not kill.”
Sara examined the end of the blade, noting the very tip held a sharpened edge, while farther down the length it blunted significantly. She then turned and returned the saber to its scabbard and with a sigh commented, “You all have fun with that!”
With everything tucked away, Jake closed the lid on the box and indicated for everyone to “saddle up.” Before heading out, Jake checked with ALICE, insuring the V-27 would head back to Alaska and the helicopter to Becky and Sandy. With Sara on behind him, he powered up his ride and then slowly started forward, the others falling in single file behind him. As they moved to the edge of the runway, Jake started to nose up a bit gaining altitude before heading out over the open water.
Both Jake and Sara could see the particulars in their heads up display their helmets provided. Direction, airspeed, and altitude all clearly identified, although Jake’s instrument panel included a display with map overlay and the position of all 11 hover cycles. Settling in at a little over 100 feet over the water and 120 MPH, he led the column toward the mainland.
As they neared the coast, they hit the designated separation point and Abby’s A Troop split off heading inland while Jake lead B Troop on a more Northerly route. After a short time, Jake swung right, leading his group east and verifying on his display that Abby was right where she was supposed to be. Jake was a bit concerned that A Troop was traveling longer over dry land and was on the more populated route. They were more likely to draw unwanted attention than his group over water, but he needed to approach from this direction if he was to try to arrive undetected.