“What about the Air Force compound? It already holds a lot of the base’s food supplies, it has its own water source, and nobody’s coming through those blast doors if they’re sealed.”
“Kamuvan, maskima,” answered Glide.
“English!” said Frosty.
“I am sorry. Yes, I agree, the Air Force complex is perfect. Frosty, escort the general and the colonel there, please. I am going to collect a few security battalion members that Frosty and I think will be loyal to you, Red Ears. We will meet you there, but do not lock the blast doors before we arrive, please.”
“Did you call me Red Ears?” said Schiller, unsure that he’d heard correctly.
Glide answered in her matter-of-fact, never-less-than-serious way. “It is your code name.”
#
Sierra Army Depot
0942 hours, April 29
Green Ghost pulled his coat over his eyes as an indication to whoever shook him to go away and leave him alone. It was more a reflex than a conscious action, since he was still more asleep than awake. But the intruder poked his shoulder and words filtered through to his brain.
“General Fleming wants to see you, sir.”
“What time is it?”
“Zero-nine-forty-two.”
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to sleep that late. “Yeah, okay, I’m coming.” A groan punctuated the last two words.
“He said to tell you it’s urgent.”
It’s always urgent.
Rolling over on his back, Green Ghost rubbed his still closed eyes with the heels of his hands. He felt them watering against the rough skin of his palm. Blinking them open, he found that even the dim lighting of the old warehouse that acted as a barracks burned. He squinted but they watered more and blurred his vision. “Tell General Fleming I’m on the way.”
His bed was a bare spot on the concrete floor of a building that had formerly been a machine shop, and his mattress was his field jacket. There had been a time, not too long before, when that had been enough to get a good night’s sleep. But as he pushed to his feet, every muscle in his back and legs screamed in protest.
Fleming’s headquarters were in a small building near the center of the camp, close to the makeshift chow hall and with the newly dug latrines in a strip of unpaved ground nearby. An obviously homemade well pump stood in a small shack outside the headquarters. Green Ghost paused there long enough to pump the handle and splash water on his face, sipping some from his cupped palm, before heading inside. At the sight of the massive black woman taking up most of the tattered metal couch in Fleming’s office, he stopped in the doorway and blinked, wondering if he was still asleep.
Fleming stood behind his desk, his thick arms folded. Green Ghost recognized his smile as sarcastic, since he’d seen it many times before. The woman, however, didn’t give any sign she’d seen him come in. Her eyes remained fixed on Fleming with a wide-eyed leer as if he was a sizzling, medium-rare T-bone steak. Even seated, Ghost could tell that, while Fleming himself stood six foot four inches, with a deep chest and weightlifter’s arms, she dwarfed him.
“There you are,” the general said with a tone that meant what took you so long? “Nick, this lady says she knows you.”
“We’ve met, Socrates—”
“You said your name was Norm,” she interrupted. When she smiled, Ghost saw a gap in her front teeth he hadn’t noticed on the road back to Sierra. Little wrinkles sprayed from the corners of her eyes.
“It’s a long story,” Green Ghost said. She still didn’t look at him. “What are you doing here, Kody?”
“I came with news, but stayed for the view.”
“Jane’s not here.”
“So I heard. She will be.”
“Why’s that?”
For the first time she looked at him, and Ghost felt like an insect on a microscope slide. “Is he really married?” The question caught him so off-guard, he couldn’t block an involuntary reaction. “That’s what I thought!” She waggled a finger at Fleming. “You shouldn’t lie to Kodiak Kate.”
“Kody! Why is Jane coming back?”
“Hmmm… oh. Maybe she won’t, but the Chinese are patrolling toward Lake Tahoe and she doesn’t live too far south of there. Now that I think about it, she might just take to the woods… that’s probably safer than coming here.”
“The Chinese are moving into the Sierra Nevadas?”
“The what? Oh, the mountains. Sure, but not too many. Most are staying in the group that’s coming this way.”
“What?” Fleming said. The embarrassed man vanished and was replaced by the professional officer. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”
“You’re cute when you’re mad.”
“Get out of my office!”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Kody said in a sudden rage. Her huge breasts bounced for a few seconds after she lurched to her feet. One hand strayed toward a large knife strapped to her thigh. Seeing that, Fleming reached into a desk drawer for his pistol.
Green Ghost stepped between them, arms outstretched in a stop motion, like a school crossing guard. “We need to hear her out,” he said to Fleming. “And Kody, we’re grateful you came to us, but if the Chinese are on the way, we need to get ready. How many are coming?”
Heaving in deep breaths, she pointed at Fleming and there was nothing flirty about it. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I came here as a favor to Jane and Green Ghost here. Next time, I won’t make that mistake.”
“I’m sorry,” Fleming said. “Can we start over?”
“I don’t know how many Chinese are headed this way,” she said, ignoring Fleming and turning her attention to Green Ghost. “They’re strung out for miles. A lot, that’s all I can tell you.”
“Tanks? AFVs?”
“I don’t know what an AFV is, but I saw a few tanks.”
“How fast are they moving?”
“You mean when will they be here, don’t you? Probably tomorrow afternoon, or maybe the next morning.” She picked up a huge, wide-brimmed leather hat from the couch and headed for the door. Streaked with stains, the hat fit perfectly over the crown of bushy reddish-orange hair.
As she walked out the door, Fleming called out behind her. “Thank you!”
She paused, half turned, and then kept going. Green Ghost followed her. Even with his own long strides, he found it hard to keep up.
Tethered to the tree where he’d found Vapor and Jane after the last battle was the largest horse he’d ever seen that wasn’t a Clydesdale. She picked up a folding metal container filled with water, dumped out what was left, and slid it into a pouch looped around the horse’s neck that appeared to have been custom-crafted for that purpose. A black leather Western saddle creaked as she put a foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up. Along with a bedroll and two saddle bags, the butts of three rifle holster scabbards hung from the saddle.
“General Fleming’s really a pretty nice guy,” Green Ghost said. “I know he appreciates you coming here. You just took him by surprise is all.”
“He called you Nick.”
“Oh, yeah… it’s another long story.”
“Well, whatever you call yourself, you’re a nice guy. I see why Jane has a crush on you.”
He took a step back without realizing it. “She likes me?”
“Oh, man, she’s right. You really are thick. Listen, don’t you dare get killed in the fight that’s coming, you hear me? Jane’s good people and I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”
“Hang on, what do you mean ‘hurt again’?”
“Like you said, it’s a long story, and I’ve got a long ride before nightfall. I’m supposed to meet Liar Lem tomorrow with stuff his Navy boys want, and if I don’t leave now I won’t make it.”
His mind was still processing the Jane has a crush on you remark when something in her last words set off an alarm and he called after her, “You still haven’t told me about those Navy boys!”
#
/> Vapor lay propped on his elbows on a long metal work table, so he saw Green Ghost the instant he entered the warehouse that doubled as the hospital. Sited on the northern side of the administrative complex, it stayed cooler than any of the other buildings, although cool was relative.
“How ya feeling?” Green Ghost said.
“Getting shot in the leg is awesome. I highly recommend it.”
“If you like it so much, I can shoot the other one.”
“I’ll bet you would, too. Where ya been?”
“Recon. Got back last night.”
“Hey, is Jane still around? I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“You haven’t seen me, either.”
“You’re not a hot blonde. You’re an ugly dude.”
“She wanted to bury her friends who got killed a few miles west of camp and I went along to help. While there, we came on some information that sent us south for a few days, where we ran into work of an old friend of ours.”
“Yeah, who’s that?”
“Adder.”
“Our Adder?”
“I doubt there’s two.”
“Son of a bitch.” Vapor looked away. “I hope you smoked him.”
“He wasn’t there in person, just his handiwork. But I left him a message.”
“Written in blood?”
Green Ghost blinked in surprise. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
Vapor couldn’t help laughing. “I didn’t. I was fuckin’ with you. So look, I’m glad you’re back okay and all, but it can’t be much past oh-seven hundred and you’ve never been an early morning guy unless you had to be. So why are you here?”
“More Chinese are coming and I need to know what’s headed our way. I thought I’d see if you were tired of this place yet.”
“The leg’s pretty stiff. I’m not sure how far I can walk.”
“And staying on a horse wouldn’t be any easier… okay, stay here and help Socrates get ready, then. Any word on Claw?”
“I saw him yesterday. He was out of it, but the doc says he’ll pull through as long as he doesn’t get an infection.”
“Lasting effects?”
Vapor shrugged. “Without all the doctor gizmos, they can’t tell.”
“All right. If he comes around, tell him I asked.”
“Do me a favor?”
“Sure, what?”
“If you see Adder, cut off his nuts.”
#
Chapter 57
War loses a great deal of its romance after a soldier has seen his first battle.
Colonel John S. Mosby
Albuquerque, New Mexico
0952 hours, April 29
General Ahmednur Hussein Muhdin swatted at the flies that wouldn’t stop buzzing his face. For the fourth time, he combed his beard in case food had become stuck there to attract the damnable insects. He’d worn his brand new combat uniform, the one he’d personally designed and had sewn from the best cotton and wool in the entire Caliphate. The medals and ribbons adorning his entire chest nearly to his waist were all authentic, too. They’d been found at a U.S. Navy warehouse in New Mecca, formerly Corpus Christi, and Muhdin didn’t care that they were all from a defunct navy or that many were duplicates. The bright colors and shiny medals looked as impressive as they did on the Russian generals he’d seen in a book, and that was all he cared about.
Impressive uniforms had one downside, however, and it was a big one. They were hot, especially standing in the midday sun in the Chihuahuan Desert, on the cracked asphalt of New Mexico Highway 550. Heat radiated upward from the bleached-out roadway and Muhdin felt sweat running from his armpits. Nevertheless, he understood the need to appear sympathetic to the plight of his men, who had no choice except to stay put and bake. The Emir had made it quite clear, repeatedly, that Muhdin must lead by example if he wanted to get the most out of his troops, and if he couldn’t do that, then why was he a general in the Army of the Sword of the Prophet?
So Muhdin stood facing north, surrounded by his staff and officers of the unit stationed there on the northern fringe of Albuquerque. To the east were the distant Sandia Mountains and the Rio Grande River lay a few miles south. Lifting the binoculars to his face, Muhdin felt the hot metal even through his gloves and so held the eyepieces half an inch from his eyes. He couldn’t see anything through them doing that, but it didn’t matter; this was all for show. The only thing between them and the mountains to the north was empty desert. He turned this way and that as if examining the terrain; once he felt he’d done it long enough, Muhdin handed the binoculars to an aide and addressed the slight young officer in charge of the company camped in the area.
“Are your men eager, Devotee Mohammad?” Officers kept the standard ranks of most militaries, beginning with lieutenant, then captain, major, and so on. But the lower ranks began with aspirant, the lowest and equivalent to a private, then came adherent, acolyte, and finally devotee, which equaled a sergeant. The entire rank structure was new, having been installed during the intense training of the previous winter, and Muhdin was proud that he had suggested the names for the lower ranks.
“Yes, General, they can’t wait to wipe out the infidels.”
Muhdin waggled a finger. “If the infidels surrender, Devotee, you will accept it. Is that clear? Not only does the Caliphate needs laborers, but every man and woman must be given the opportunity to follow our beloved New Prophet. So it is written and so must it be done. Only after having one year to repent their sins and join us can retribution be justly administered.”
“Yes, General.” Devotee Mohammad’s disappointment was obvious. “And must we respect the women, as well?”
Muhdin smiled and put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. His small size and thin beard likely meant women did not find him attractive.
“Once they convert, yes, they are then children of Allah. But until that time they are infidels, property to be… used… in whatever way best aids the Caliphate. If that means relieving our brave soldiers of their stress, I can think of few ways better for them to aid us.”
“The blessings of Allah upon our New Prophet!” Mohammad said.
“And all his servants,” Muhdin answered.
#
South of Topaz Lake, Nevada
1117 hours
Major Dieter Strootman opened one of the M1130 command vehicle’s rear doors and waved at the driver of the Humvee directly behind to pull over so he could relay a message to Colonel Young. It took several tries, but eventually the driver understood and pulled onto the shoulder of old Nevada Highway 395, leaving plenty of room for vehicles behind them to pass.
Everyone took the opportunity to stretch and relieve themselves behind a series of small hills close by in the desert.
Once they were standing away from the others, Young got off the first question. “Have they recaptured General Angriff?”
“No, sir, as far as I know there’s been no sign of the general. We’ve been ordered to make camp soon to await liaison officers from the People’s Liberation Army.”
“We’ve what?”
Strootman held up his hands. “I’m just the messenger.”
“Damn that man! So we’re expected to be nice to the damned Chinese?”
“It would appear so.”
Young sucked a deep breath and rubbed his lower lip. “All right, make camp north of Topaz Lake. I want this time used for vehicle maintenance and weapons cleaning. This dust gets in everything and if it comes to a fight, I want us ready.”
“Begging your pardon, Colonel, but if we’re on the same side as the Chinese, who’s left to fight?”
“I don’t even want to think about that, Dieter. Not for a second.”
#
Chapter 58
Get off your butt and join the Marines!
John Wayne
Outside Gallup, New Mexico
1836 hours, April 29
Captain Sully tried to chew without tasting. He concentrated on the purples and oranges that
the sun cast on some distant mountains, hoping he wouldn’t think about what he was eating. The MRE packs weren’t rat-fucked when the company got them, but he’d let the men have first choice over the officers, and then his subordinate officers before him. Naturally all that was left by the time it got to him were vomelets, veggie omelets, chicken fajitas, and Jambalaya with shrimp. Before the first time he’d tried any of those three, he’d thought he’d won the MRE lottery. The reality was far grimmer.
He sat in the dirt near his command LAV. Halfway through the alleged meal, he began swigging water after each bite so as to swallow without chewing. When he saw Sergeant Meyer crunching through the dirt toward him, Sully put the MRE down and hoped the ants would get it.
“What is it?” Sully said.
“Prime, sir. General Steeple wants to speak with the captain.”
“General Steeple? Did you verify his earlier broadcast?”
“I did, sir. I contacted Echo Company and they heard it, too, so then I called a buddy of mine back at Prime. He said Steeple has taken over the entire operation and has opened negotiations with the Chinese, just like we heard.”
“Thank you, Meyer.” Sully pushed to his feet and brushed himself off. This was one call he was not looking forward to.
#
Only five minutes passed before Sully re-emerged from his command LAV. Eyebrows arched downward in a V and his jaw moved back and forth as he gritted his teeth.
“Bad news, Captain?” Meyer said.
“We are to hold our position and not fire unless fired upon. I have a call with the platoon leaders now, but… First Sergeant, I need you to oversee construction of defensive positions that will allow maximum flexibility for attack or retreat. Make sure the men understand our situation. We’re to stay put right here even if there’s a whole army out there.”
“Did they give a reason?”
“Negative.”
“We kicked the Seven’s asses once, Captain. If we have to, we can do it again.”
“It’s not the Sevens I’m worried about.”
#
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