Divided We Stand (What's Left of My World Book 4)

by C. A. Rudolph

  Sanchez turned broadside and pointed ahead to the edge of a small rock ledge overlooking the area below, just as a half dozen or more thumps blasted off in the distance.

  Lauren’s attention diverted upon hearing them, and she looked to the sky as it lit up in a nearly overpowering glow. “Shit.” She covered the lens with her hand. “Dammit.”

  Sanchez quickly turned to face her and whispered, “Que pasa?”

  Flipping the monocular upward, Lauren gestured her head in the direction of the signal flares. “I think I just broke my night vision.”

  Sanchez shook his head. “PVS-7s are pretty tough, chica. It’s not the newest tech, but the tubes are auto-gated, and there’s an automatic cutoff to keep that from happening.” He trudged onward and began the process of unloading his gear and setting the position up. The first rifle he slid from the drag bag was the same one he had instructed Lauren with at Point Blank Range years ago. “Okay, I usually don’t do this, but I’m going to give you a choice today.”

  Lauren approached him cautiously while her eyes readjusted to the darkness and she fumbled with her NVD. “Choice?”

  Sanchez lit a cigarette and began methodically assembling the rifle. He attached an optic and threaded a suppressor onto the muzzle. “That’s right, choice,” he said, glancing up at her, then returning his attention to the weapon. Smoke billowed from his nostrils. “Spotter or shooter?”

  Lauren moved closer and got down on one knee, setting her AK on a patch of grass next to her. She shook her head and tapped herself on the temple with a smirk. “Wow, I’m an idiot. I should’ve known what you meant.”

  Sanchez set the rifle down and continued arranging the hide. He had an animated look on his face Lauren had never witnessed before, but it didn’t take away from his ever-present charm. “You’re right, you should have, but that’s okay. I know you’ve been through a lot, chica, and this decision of yours to tag along with us isn’t helping.” He glanced up at her with his dark, penetrating eyes. “Do me a favor…just watch yourself, especially after that blow to the head. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

  “I will,” Lauren said, snapping the NVDs over her eyes again, verifying their operation.

  “So what’s it going to be?”

  “Shooter.”

  One of Sanchez’s eyebrows shot up from behind his goggles. “You’re sure?”

  Lauren pointed to the rifle. “How could I say no? You even brought the M40A6…the one without the safety. It’s the same one you had at Point Blank. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

  Sanchez cracked a slight smile. “You remember that day, huh?”

  Lauren’s response was interrupted by explosions booming off in the expanse. It was a sound she had heard before, recalling it from the morning Zero Dark Armageddon had begun, at least insofar as she was concerned. It was an event that would exist forever in her memoirs…the moment when the good guys showed up in all their glory and put down a mob of malicious hellhounds. It was the point in time when things had finally started to take a turn for the better, and it seemed to somehow mark the beginning of Lauren getting her world back.

  “NVD still working?” Sanchez asked.

  “Seems that way.”

  “Think you can shoot with it on? It’ll be hard to focus at first…might take some getting used to.”

  Lauren shrugged. “Just like everything else I’ve been doing lately. If you see me struggling, tell me and I’ll hand the rifle off. I won’t be offended.”

  “Fair enough.” Sanchez butted his cigarette out and gestured to the camp below. “The round will be over in a minute. Then it’ll get real dark again. Let’s get situated.”

  Lauren moved into position per Sanchez’s instructions. She got down prone and lined up with the rifle, feeling the added weight of the suppressor. She snapped the legs of the bipod down and began adjusting them for proper height. Then she took in a view of the landscape through her optic while managing the added burden of aligning it through the NVD. “How far are we out?”

  “How far do you think we’re out? How far does it look to you?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

  Once Sanchez was prone, he moved closer to Lauren with a spotter scope in his hands pulled close. “If the PVS-7 is screwing with you, take it off,” he said. “Dave was adamant about using them for this op, but in my humble opinion, they aren’t needed. They limit your field of view and keep your natural senses from homing in. If you feel you can see well enough to shoot with your naked eye, do so. Copy?”

  “I copy.”

  “I know you’ve probably had smoke blown up your culo before, chica, but you won’t get any of that shit from me in a combat setting. I always thought you were a natural. If the world hadn’t gone crazy like it did, when it did, I think you might’ve missed your calling.”

  Lauren turned her head away from the scope for a second to gauge Sanchez’s expression, what she could see of it. “Looks about somewhere between six hundred and seven hundred yards. But that’s just a guess.”

  “You’re not that far off,” Sanchez uttered, making some adjustments on his scope. “I range it six-eight-eight meters. That’s around seven hundred fifty yards. The optic is good…let’s eyeball our sectors.”

  “Okay.”

  “From the far nine o’clock to those buildings, we’ll call sector alpha. Sector bravo will begin at the far edge, and end at the stockade. Both alpha and bravo look like target-rich environments to me. From the stockade to the far three o’clock, all the way to the river, is sector charlie. Charlie has the most real estate, but there’s not as many targets there.”

  Lauren could hear Sanchez ramble on, but she wasn’t listening. Once in her view, she couldn’t help but be transfixed on the stockade. She simply couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  Lauren reached for the optic’s magnification ring and clicked it as far as it would go, then allowed her eyes to focus on the scene. There were the soiled, saddened, demoralized faces of what looked to be fifty to a hundred children of assorted ages, some as old as their mid-teens, others as young as preschoolers. It was heartbreaking to witness and a scene Lauren never could have prepared herself for.

  “Hey, chica,” Sanchez barked under his breath. “You still with me?”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “Sorry about what? I was talking to you, and I got nothing back. Did you black out?”

  “No, I didn’t black out. My attention was…diverted for a second. It won’t happen again.”

  Sanchez faced her. “If you can’t handle this, I need to know now. Shit’s about to get real.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “And if you’re with me and you didn’t black out, you need to respond to me appropriately, just like I trained you.”

  Lauren gritted her teeth and moved her viewpoint away from the stockade and the faces hiding behind the primitive bulwarks. “I’m affirm on all sectors.” A pause. “Shooter ready.”

  Explosions continued to level portions of the camp while sending the camp’s occupants scattering wildly in all directions. A battle had begun, and as she watched the scene play out, Lauren’s lower lip began to tremble, and she could feel doubt begin to creep into her mind.

  Then a strong hand gently touched the back of her neck.

  “Listen to me, princesa. Hear my voice. I know what’s down there. I know what’s on the line today, and I’m with you, stuck to you like gum on a boot until the end. It’s that end we need to concentrate on right now. So let’s get this dirty business over with and get these kids back home so we can all enjoy better days. It’s up to us now.”

  Lauren turned to look at Sanchez and was surprised to see him looking her way. He had locked his NVDs upward, and his charcoal eyes were glistening as if he had begun tearing up. It was easy for Lauren to feel the emotions he was exuding, and she tried her best to smile through her own. “It’s always been up to us,” she said, easing back
into position.

  Sanchez nodded, placing the scope back to his eye. “Target. Sector charlie. Tall gunman, green jacket, firing westward.”

  “Identified.”

  “Range seven-seven-five. Wind zero.”

  “Roger.”

  “Fire.”

  Lauren exhaled and squeezed the trigger, and the rifle burped through the suppressor, sending a round downrange, striking the gunman near his collarbone. He went down almost immediately, his hand attempting to plug the entry wound to no avail. Lauren reloaded the rifle in a rapid motion.

  “Target down,” the Marine emitted proudly. “Muy bueno.”

  “He’s not dead. Should I hit him again?”

  “You hit his carotid. He’s leaking like a stuck pig. Save the ammo.”

  The pair worked together to successfully delete numerous targets while other snipers contributed from their respective hides, their suppressed shots barely audible above the enemy’s chaotic cries below.

  Sanchez’s body went rigid as he rotated right. “Shit. Sector charlie again, pivot double quick. Target at the stockade, reaching for the gate. Tall and skinny.”

  “I got him,” said Lauren, already on the move, bringing the target into her sight picture. She lined the reticle just underneath his right ear, then let out a breath and squeezed the trigger, but the rifle failed to erupt.

  “Shit!” Lauren grabbed the bolt and cycled it, sending the dead round out of the chamber. In that moment, she also realized she was out of rounds.

  Sanchez turned to her, eyes wide. “Misfire?”

  Lauren pulled away frantically from the rifle while looking to and fro for options. “Yes, a goddamn misfire! Can you believe it?” Her voice was panicked, signifying she had reached the edge of her comfort zone.

  “Calm down,” Sanchez said softly, handing her a fresh box magazine. “I’ve got you.”

  Lauren quickly sent the magazine home and chambered a fresh round. “Thank you.” Peering into the scope, she reacquired her target, noticing the man had already opened the gate.

  With a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other, he waved them around wildly, ordering the children to follow him as they cried and screamed and fought to escape. Then, yards behind, three more men were closing in to join him.

  “Multiple tangos approaching. Looks like we have ourselves a party now,” Sanchez mused. “Fire at will, chica. Send them all screaming back to hell.”

  Lining the reticle up on the screaming man, once again Lauren exhaled a breath to allow her body to settle, and squeezed the trigger. This time, the rifle thumped, and the slug struck her target true, sending him flying to the ground under its energy. Lauren cycled the action while she acquired target number two, and without a second’s hesitation, she put him down for the count. She repeated the motions for the final two men before allowing herself to breathe again.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Sanchez said. “Talk about good shot placement. Nice shooting.”

  Lauren didn’t say anything. She was in the zone. She scanned the area below, looking for additional evil men to bury, only able to see the terrified faces of young people, all of whom had no idea what to do or where to go.

  Most of them streamed back into the stockade, as it had been their only place of refuge. But two of them, in particular a boy approximately ten or eleven years old and a feeble girl possibly half his age with thin, curly hair, had other ideas in mind.

  Lauren watched in a daze as the boy reached for the girl’s hand and led her directly into the center of the camp—right where most of the targets still were, and where most of the incoming fire was being sent.

  “Jesus Christ,” Lauren shrieked. “What the hell are they doing?”

  “Who? What sector?”

  “Moving into bravo…those two kids. They’re headed right into the middle of hell.”

  Sanchez pivoted to see what Lauren was referring to, yet remained on point. “There’s nothing we can do about that. Just try to keep an eye on them. Try to stay focused.”

  “Focused? Are you kidding me right now? We can’t just ignore them, Sanchez. We have to do something! They’ll both be killed!”

  Sanchez added compassion to his tone while remaining matter-of-fact. “Chica, listen to me. We are doing everything we can to save them, but you must come to grips with the gruesome fact that there’s no way we can save all of them. I’m sorry, it’s just the way it is.”

  Lauren relinquished the M40 rifle and rose, causing Sanchez to recoil to the side. She threw her pack across her back and grabbed her AK. “Bullshit!” she screamed. “I can’t accept that—I won’t accept that.” She darted away, directly down the steep embankment, heading right for the danger zone. “Cover me!”

  Sanchez stared blank faced at her as she departed, his mouth agape. He abandoned the spotting scope and retrieved the rifle, then moved himself into position. “Women…”

  With no regard of any kind for her own welfare, Lauren ran down the mountain in the predawn darkness, and it didn’t take long for her to learn the limitations of the PVS-7 night vision she was using. In addition to objects appearing two-dimensional, her depth perception was dangerously limited, and while struggling to focus, she found herself running into all sorts of things. She slammed into trees, tripped over rocks and roots jutting up from the ground, and nearly injured herself a handful of times along the way down. At one point, Lauren felt a twinge of pain from her ankle, figuring she had tweaked the sprain she’d sustained months before, an injury she had spent so much time strengthening and regaining her confidence in. While providing her the ability to see in the dark, the NVD also provided a lengthy catalog of limitations.

  Once she arrived on flat ground, Lauren watched the flurry of machine-gun tracer rounds flash by in green streaks, burning brightly at first as they entered her field of view, only to dissipate and vanish seconds after. Before moving again, she removed an infrared light stick from her hip pocket, brought it to life with a snap, and attached it to the MOLLE webbing on her pack. It was still plenty dark enough outside for most, if not all, of the shooters to be using their night vision, and she hoped the ChemLight would give her a better chance of not being hit by friendly fire.

  From there, Lauren brought her rifle up and sprinted to where she had last seen the boy and the little girl. The fact that she was in a hostile environment now, one of the worst possible places to be, and there were enemies practically everywhere, both hidden and in plain sight, didn’t even register to her as factors. All she concerned herself with at this very moment was getting to the two young souls who had been foolish enough to leave their only place of sanctuary.

  Lauren knew deep within herself what it was like to make foolish decisions. She had been there a time or two before, both as a child and as a young adult, and she understood beyond a shadow of a doubt that this particular decision would be more than frowned upon. But it didn’t matter to her. Lauren only knew she had to act.

  Seeing two men she didn’t recognize several yards ahead in her path, Lauren unleashed a burst of full-auto fire from the AK, sending both limply to the ground. She dropped to a prone position, and while stuffing her fingers into her ringing ears to nullify the rapid cracks of gunfire for a moment, she surveyed the scene, finally discovering what she’d come for. After taking in a few deep breaths, she darted off in their direction.

  Spotting her approach, the boy turned to face her while he situated the little girl behind him, then held up a hand, trying his best to look aggressive. “Don’t come any closer!” he yelped. “We’re not going back there; I don’t care what you do to us. You can shoot us both if you want to, but we’re not going back in that cage.” He paused, turning his head away to whisper something to the girl. “All we want to do is leave. Can’t we just leave? Can’t you just let us go home? All my sister and I want to do is—”

  Lauren smiled and held a hand up to silence his pleas. “I’m not taking you back there. I came here to get you out.” Sh
e moved slightly closer. “It’s okay…I’m not with them. I mean, not with the people who took you. I’m one of the good guys. There’s an army here now. We’ve come to save you and the other kids.”

  The boy cocked his head and gave Lauren a disbelieving look. “Who are you?” he asked, eyeballing her up and down, scrutinizing every attribute. “You said army, but you don’t look like a soldier. You look more like a robot.”

  Lauren locked the night-vision monocular in its upright position on her helmet so the two young people could see her face. “I’m not a soldier or a robot. Just someone who’s here to help.”

  The boy’s sister displayed a set of tormented eyes, then pulled on him and whispered into his ear.

  “My sister wants to know…if you’re a superhero.”

  Lauren’s features softened—the question nearly taking her breath away. She hesitated a moment, not knowing how to respond. “No, I’m not,” she said, her tone faltering. “I am definitely not a superhero.”

  The young boy continued to scrutinize her in the darkness as if his eyes were capable of X-ray vision. His protective grip on his sister remained solid and unwavering.

  “I need you guys to do a favor for me,” Lauren said, finding as much calm as she could muster while moving in closer to the pair. “I need you to follow me over to that building over there. But you have to stay as low as you can the whole way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s safer. We’re going to stay there until the shooting stops.”

  The boy’s murky, dirt-covered skin wrinkled a bit as his expression twisted. A second later, he nodded his understanding and got down on his knees while helping his sister do the same.

  “That’s it, perfect. Now, can you crawl? Can you crawl on your hands and feet the whole way over there and keep your head low at the same time?”

  The boy nodded almost instantly and then turned to his sister to make certain she understood Lauren’s instruction. He whispered something in her ear, and a second later she nodded affirmation.