I can’t imagine how we’re going to get through this without taking some casualties. I think we’re all trying to push that out of our minds. I have to trust that if I end up getting killed the survivors will take care of Jo. I was going to have a sit-down with her and explain I might not come back, but she’s not stupid. She knows the risks – we all do. She’s always told me she loves me and believes in me. I’d like to believe in me, too, but I’m scared to death.
And I think if we survive what is to come, we have to accept that we’re fighting a war with two fronts now: the creeps, and Sunray, or those like him.
I’ll close off this journal for now. I don’t know if I’ll be around for another entry. I don’t know if any of us will be.
***
We left the hide on a northeast bearing, keeping a good 10 paces between each person. Once again, we were relying on Mel to get us there in one piece, and Doug provided rear security as we trudged through ankle-deep snow. The temperature plummeted once darkness set in – according to Mel’s wristwatch thermometer it was below minus 20.
After about 40 minutes of walking, we made it to the snowdrift-covered highway. We crept into the ditch on the western edge, and everyone dropped down onto one knee to have a listen. I doubled up to Mel and peered out over the empty expanse with my night vision scope.
“How far?” I whispered, focusing on the tree line that bordered the edge of the coulee.
“Another 1500m or so,” she said. “It’d be faster if we just high tailed it up the road.”
“When has anything been easy since we left the armory? Wait a minute.”
“What is it?”
I adjusted the focus on the night scope and panned from my left to my right. I could see a glimmer of white light amid the soft green glow of the landscape. White light meant a concentrated source of light, from either a fire or a man-made source. It disappeared into the tree line.
I stuffed the scope back into its case. “They’re either expecting us or I just spotted a foot sentry, or possibly a patrol.”
Mel gulped. “Shit – do you think they saw us?”
I shook my head. “I doubt it – but we’re going to have to be extra cautious going in. The route we planned is wide of the highway. They probably have the road covered by an anti-tank gun. If we add another 1000m or so and sweep wide to the right, we can probably get in unnoticed.”
“That’s going to add time to our patrol,” she said grimly. “But I don’t see that we have a choice. Let everyone know and give me a minute to reroute.”
I patted her on the shoulder. “Will do. Hang in there, Mel.”
I scrambled back to my position on the rear, filling each team member in on what I’d seen. In 15 minutes we were tracking across another open field, crouching low to reduce our silhouette. We’d increased the gap between each person to 20 paces, just in time for the wind to change direction. The elements were conspiring against us – the icy breeze was blowing full into our faces, and every few minutes we had to brush away the frost as it collected around the eyeholes on our balaclavas. Snow had been falling straight since midday, drifting across the field and blanketing the scattered corpses of frozen cattle. This was a more physically demanding patrol than the last – each of us was weighed down with heavy weapons and ammunition. After more than an hour of trudging across the open landscape, we cut across to the edge of the woods, stopping every few minutes to have a listen. The air was tinged with the smell of smoke, so we knew we were close to our objective.
I took over the patrol just short of the wood line, leading the team through a thicket of diamond willow until we were well into the copse of trees. The uneven ground was filled with ruts and deep trenches that offered excellent concealment. I selected a point between two enormous boulders as our ORV. The team dropped into all round defense, each person keeping a sharp eye on their arcs of fire. The next thing I had to do was to lead each fire team to their positions without being seen.
After a quick moment to orientate our position to the map, we broke into our groups and I started out down the steep forward slope of the coulee. Behind me was Mel’s team, followed by Sid and Cruze, watching our backs. We still couldn’t see our objectives at this point, but we were close – the smell of wood smoke was getting stronger. The trees offered a blessed reprieve from the relentless wind, and I think we were all glad to be out of the open land, even if it meant we’d soon be in the middle of a fire fight.
We slowly trudged through ankle-deep snow, each of us being extra careful not to make a sound. We hadn’t run into the patrol I’d spotted earlier, but we could see the highway ahead, winding down the face of the coulee. The area for Mel and Kenny to set up their mortar came into view – an opening in the trees, surrounded by waist-high grass that bobbed and swayed with each gust of the cold wind. I dropped to one knee and held up my hand. We ducked into a depression and once more gathered into an all-around defense.
“Okay, Mel – this is your spot,” I whispered. “Set up the 60 mm mortar just above us, and, once you hear our rounds land, take out whoever is on the bridge.”
She nodded. “What about that foot patrol? They’ll be able to spot us from the sound.”
“Trust me -they’ll come crashing through the bush once the shooting starts. At that point, it won’t matter if you open fire on them with your personal weapons – and once Sid starts firing, they’ll be looking for the muzzle flash from our machine gun, not you.”
“Let them come,” Sid rumbled.
I glanced at Sid and almost felt sorry for that patrol if they decided to try and take him out.
“All right,” I whispered. “I want rounds in the air within thirty seconds of hearing the first blast from our mortar. You’ll cross the bridge only after I send up a green flare.”
“And if you don’t make it?” said Doug. “What then?”
“If you don’t get the signal you’ll gather at the ORV, just like we rehearsed, and hustle your asses back to the hide. The next move will be up to you. But that won’t happen. It simply can’t.”
I tried to put some conviction in my voice, for effect – everyone needed to believe our raid would be successful. I was counting on the confusion a series of well placed explosions would bring about. We had excellent concealment – our fire teams were portable and could shift their firing positions to avoid detection.
This had to work.
“Good luck, guys,” I said, motioning for Sid and Cruze to follow me out of the depression and on to the next firing position. I didn’t bother looking back, although I knew full well this might be the last time any of us saw each other. Strangely, I felt a wave of peace wash over me. I don’t know why it happened – I should have felt terrified, but I didn’t. It might have been because I knew what each person in the group was capable of when push came to shove – or possibly it was just a sense of relief at finally confronting Sunray’s people. The prospect of a direct encounter had been hanging over us like a death sentence from the moment we set foot in Eden.
After a few minutes of walking, we rounded a series of boulders. Below us, near a modular tent in a thicket of poplar trees, I could see the glow from a large bonfire. We ducked down underneath a pair of logs that had fallen onto each other, forming a near-perfect A – beneath them was flat, snow-covered earth. I held out my hand and spread my fingers wide as I looked down into the coulee. This was as good a spot as any for Sid to set up the gun. I carefully opened the tripod and the giant Newfoundlander inserted the receiver group. He handed me the five belts of linked ammunition and I quickly laid them in neat rows with the projectile ends pointing down range.
Sid dropped onto his belly and opened the receiver group as I handed him the first belt. He placed the rounds inside, and then quietly closed the receiver.
“Ready,” he said firmly, gazing down at the compound. “I’ve got a wide arc of fire here – I can cover the bridge, all the way to past the modular tent.”
I pointed to the razor wire
compound and the civilians as I handed him the night vision scope. There were all huddled, again, around a small fire. Behind them were the trio of creeps. “This is what we’re up against,” I whispered. “I wish I had someone to feed you belts of ammo, but you’re on your own, Sid. I’m sorry about that.”
He peered through the aperture. “Jesus … what kind of place is this?”
“I don’t know, man,” I answered. “Maybe it’s some kind of twisted new world order or maybe Sunray is just plain freaking insane. But you know what to do when the shit hits the fan. You understand now why we need to save those people?”
He flicked off the switch on the scope and handed it back to me. “Yeah – I get it. Don’t worry – I’ll make sure the covering fireworks.”
I nodded. “Good. You’re the anchor for this action, Sid. Tell me I can count on you.”
He cocked the gun. “You can count on me, Dave. And look … I’m sorry about how I’ve been the past couple of days. I’m sorry about everything … I truly am.”
I was about to say something to make peace with Sid but there wasn’t time. Instead, I gave him a pat on the shoulder and motioned for Cruze to follow me. We ducked under the pair of logs and trudged on, being careful not to silhouette ourselves. We were going into the belly of the beast. Our firing position would be the closest of all three. After about 10 minutes of sneaking through the thick undergrowth, I spotted the main roadway as it snaked down the coulee, 300m to our left. It leveled out into an S-shape surrounded on either side by waist-high grass. Ahead, I could see the bridge, with a pair of sentries walking around the perimeter of the razor-wire gate, so we doubled into the grass and leopard-crawled up to the edge of the river. The rushing water helped muffle any sounds we made as we set up the mortar. I carefully laid out a dozen 60 mm rounds on the ground next to the base plate and prepped them for fire as Cruze lined up the aiming line with our targets. She quietly dug the base plate into the ground as I peered out, using the night vision, to estimate the distance, then adjusted the increment charges on each bomb’s tailfin assembly.
The entire compound was in front of us, with the light tanks smack dab in the middle. I watched in silence as half a dozen soldiers warmed themselves around the huge bonfire next to the modular tent. One of the Coyote light reconnaissance vehicles was missing. I peered up the road leading to the eastern edge of the coulee in search of tire tracks or movement, but there was nothing.
“They’re down a recce vehicle since this morning,” I whispered as I handed the scope to Cruze. She peered into the aperture.
“Six guys by the fire. Two on the bridge acting as sentry. I don’t see anyone that looks like they might be you-know-who.”
I nodded. “We hit them hard and hit them fast. First rounds right onto that bonfire – if we’re lucky, we can take out all six of them with a couple of shots. That’ll get the guys on the bridge moving, but Sid can take them out. Once they’re down, we’ll double across the bridge and secure the other side. I’ll send up the flare and we’ll try and use fire and movement down that track to the compound. You ready for this?”
Cruze gripped the mortar tube tightly and clenched her jaw. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Eight soldiers were about to die. I didn’t care – half a dozen civilians were trapped in a pen full of creeps. Sunray was nowhere to be seen, and we had the tactical advantage.
It was time to avenge Kate.
28
I gripped the body of the high explosive round over the end of the mortar, and took one last look out onto the objective – as soon as the round fell in the tube, all hell would break loose. I knew that we’d take casualties; I knew there was the chance I’d never see Jo again. And I knew as soon as this round was in the air, everything would change. Cruze leaned into the mortar, forcing her body weight down on the base plate. In the distance, I could hear laughter coming from the soldiers, smoking and joking as they gathered around the bonfire to warm up against a cold night.
I glanced at Cruze and saw her eyes narrow through the holes in her balaclava. Her gaze was fixed on our target with laser precision. “You going to drop that thing?” she whispered, her eyes never leaving the men around the campfire.
I took one last look at the target as I released the bomb. “Round’s away,” I whispered.
A hollow metallic thunk filled the air as the bomb rocketed out of the mortar tube. I kept my eyes focused on the group of soldiers as I reached for another high explosive round and dropped it in. Time seemed to freeze in place – though the sound of the mortar echoed through the coulee, not a single soldier huddling around that fire made even the tiniest attempt to take cover.
Seconds later, the round hit with a blast that shattered the silence. I grabbed another round and dropped it down the tube as a mixture of smoke and screams filled the air. Three of the enemy dashed for cover as the next round hit, blasting body parts in every direction. Then the shooting started. From the bridge, the sentries were firing on our position. Bullets cracked over our heads, but not for long; Mel’s first round blasted a hole in the razor wire fence. Screams could be heard, both from the bridge and the modular tent, as I launched another 60 mm round that lit up in a ball of fire and molten metal. I watched with stone cold concentration as a soldier ran for the safety of the river, only to be cut down by a burst of machine gun fire.
“Stand by,” I said firmly as I grabbed my binoculars and scanned the area. Small fires were burning all around the tent as I searched for movement. Blood stained the freshly-fallen snow, where two soldiers lay dead. I panned to the right and spotted the civilians inside the compound, standing a few feet away from the fence. Another burst of machine gun fire rained down on the bridge and I watched the tracer rounds screaming across the coulee, the ricochets bouncing high into the air over the tops of the metal arches. The sound of gunfire echoed through the coulee every few seconds and I thought for sure I could hear that missing APC rumbling somewhere in the darkness.
“Something ain’t right,” I whispered to Cruze. “This was too easy. Way too easy. We cut them down and we’ve got rounds to spare. Do you hear an APC?”
Cruze lowered the mortar and gazed out across the river. “Or it might just be a really frigging successful fighting patrol. Do you see anything?”
“Just listen,” I whispered.
It was a faint hum that increased and decreased in pitch ever few seconds. A sound that could only come from a diesel engine.
“I hear it … if that vehicle is headed our way we gotta move now!” said Cruze
There was another explosion as one of Mel’s mortar rounds hit the bridge, lighting up the darkness with a massive ball of fire.
I peered through my binoculars at the scene in front of us. “All I see are the dead and the nearly dead,” I said grimly. “I’ll ready a flare. Have an eye for any movement.”
She grabbed the binoculars and said, “Will do. Say the word and we’ll double across the bridge.”
I nodded as I inserted the flare into the pen-sized launcher. I pulled back the plunger with my thumb, and then raised my arm in the air, releasing the flare. A neon green streak of light shot up in a high arc, signaling to the rest of the team to move across the bridge.
“Let’s go!” I whispered as I stood up, carbine in hand. I pulled my weapon to my chest and, with Cruze in tow, dashed down a forward slope to the edge of the river. In seconds we’d made it to the smashed fence in front of the bridge – there was a gap wide enough for an entire platoon to cross through. There were two small impact craters next to the body of one of the soldiers, lying on his side in the snow. He twitched a few times as we doubled past his corpse and onto the bridge deck. Cruze crouched low, her carbine pointed toward the compound a few hundred meters away. I raised my weapon to my shoulder and rested my cheek against the butt, my eyes scanning the area for anything that even smelled like a potential threat. After about thirty seconds we’d made it to the other side, so we dropped down onto our bellies and waited fo
r the rest of the team to arrive.
A deathly calm had washed over the coulee. In the distance, I could hear the cries for help from the men we’d hit with the mortar. I could make out three distinct voices, one of which was calling for his mother. After a few minutes I heard the clump clump clump of footsteps as our team doubled across the bridge. I got up on one knee and gestured for them to hurry the hell up. Sid arrived first, his body covered with belts of ammunition. Somehow he’d managed to lug not only the machine gun receiver, but also the tripod. His carbine was slung across his back.
He dove into the snow next to me, panting heavily as I grabbed the tripod and opened its legs. Sid dropped the receiver inside and locked it as I pointed up the highway. “Kill anything that moves, Sid,” I said.
“Yeah,” he gulped for air. “I can do that. I got your backs.”
Seconds later Mel and Doug were on the ground next to Cruze. I motioned for both fire teams to get up and start our area clearance – individual fire and movement if the bullets started flying. Each of us would provide cover fire while their team member moved and we’d reorganize ourselves once we’d won the firefight. Only this time I was thinking the firefight might already have already been won. The lack of enemy fire from Sunray’s troops didn’t sit well with me.
“Nothing should ever be this simple,” I said, before I motioned for each team to move forward. “Be extra vigilant. I got a bad feeling about this.”
Cruze covered me as I dashed across the open ground, ducking down behind a mound. As soon as I’d dropped to one knee, I heard her footsteps clumping through the snow. She raced ahead about a dozen meters – out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mel Dixon and Doug hustling forward, their weapons at the ready. The brush next to the modular tent was on fire and thick white smoke drifted across our field of view. I moved forward of Cruze until I spotted the blasted-out remnants of the bonfire, along with the impact craters from our mortar rounds. There was a pair of dead soldiers in front of us – one of them still clutching a plastic coffee-cup. His entire back was blown out, and I could see his exposed ribs sticking out like branches on a tree. The air smelled of blood and iron and smoke as I checked his pockets for intelligence, but there was nothing to be found. Cruze doubled past me and checked on another soldier, slumped over a battered oil drum.
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