Praying for War: The Collin War Chronicles

by W. C. Hoffman

  Major Logan motioned them forward and everyone began to jog at a slow pace. Considering the racket the squirrels made, there was no point worrying about noise discipline.

  Running through the forest was tiring. Soft soil wasn’t as bad as sand, but it was close. Brush tugged at their feet slowing them down. They plowed through a patch of bushes adorned with thorns, which inevitably found their way through the fabric of their pants and the top layers of their skin.

  Dozens of squirrels were squeaking now. He grit his teeth against the terrible racket that made Major Logan want to strangle each and every one of the little bastards.

  An overgrown path curved in from the left and led in the direction that the Combat Action Wing was traveling. The point team leader looked back at Major Logan. He motioned for them to slow to a walk and then waved them forward.

  Logan remembered the rough-cut logging road. These days, it was wild, overgrown, and barely recognizable. He quickly realized that there was a small path down the middle devoid of weeds and grasses, worn down by constant use. Therefore, the road was in use by the Vipers.

  They followed the old road for a couple hundred meters until the point security team stopped and took cover. Major Logan slowed down, crouched, and rushed up to the point team leader to see what prompted the stop. SSGT Raiford showed up a half-second behind him.

  Before any of them spoke, Logan saw what had stopped the formation. A tall rock wall blocked the path that led to the meadow. It looked like something straight out of the pages of a medieval tale. The wall caught Major Logan off guard. The last time he was there, there had been no man-made structures. His hand clenched into a fist at his side.

  Adapt and overcome was the old motto, so Logan adjusted his plans to account for the new obstacles. He’d been correct when he told Collin that HAGS knew where to drop the medication. They knew exactly where to drop it.

  Major Logan estimated that the wall was roughly one hundred meters long, connecting a rocky spire that rose out of the river that ran to the west and the steep mountain cliff to the east.

  With the wall in place, infiltrating the meadow by land would be difficult. A water insertion may be possible, but they didn’t have time for that and bringing the crate around the wall via the river would require extraordinary effort.

  Centered in the rough wall, was a large wooden double-door. If they could open it, there would be plenty of space to get the crate through. The door itself was beautiful. The hinges were wrought iron and featured a curved and decorative pattern that complimented the carved wood, which featured a haunting scene that looked like a view of purgatory.

  Major Logan figured the Vipers must have stolen it from an old church. He doubted they had the ability to craft something so breathtaking.

  “That’s an unexpected problem,” Raiford grumbled. A grin slowly spread on his face. “Good thing we came prepared.”

  “Yes, it’s manageable,” Major Logan said. He hated the idea of destroying the beautiful doors. What choice did he have though? “Get Corporal Wicks to solve that problem with a quarter block. And have the flank teams stack nearby ready to breach the opening. Remind them we’re here for the meds. So, if they make contact, kill’em all.”

  “Roger that, sir.” SSGT Raiford’s smile grew to a child-like grin as he hustled away.

  Major Logan could almost feel the excitement radiating off of Raiford. The man loved a few things: God, his wife, a good home-brewed ale, and killing Vipers.

  There will be enough killing for everyone, he thought. His stomach flipped, making him fidgety, so he got up and moved east along the tree line. Shit was about to hit the fan.

  He moved carefully and kept an eye open for traps. When he stopped again to inspect the wall, he slowly realized that it looked like a curtain wall. If the Vipers kept up the medieval theme they had going, the wall before them was just the first perimeter wall.

  Beyond the door there may be another one, which would explain why this wall was unmanned. Whatever surprises the Vipers had wouldn’t be sprung until the CAW was penned in behind this wall.

  Cursing his luck, Major Logan went back to the point team. He gathered the team leaders and gave everyone a sector to watch, while the flank teams went up to breach the wall. After issuing the orders, Major Logan dismissed them. The Eagles dispersed to organize their soldiers.

  Corporal Wicks was already attaching the quarter block of C4 to the doors with two riflemen covering him. Major Logan lay down behind a large tree and watched as Wicks slid the blasting cap into the end of the block and pressed a button on the timed detonator that Kobyashi had made for the Eagles. Koby was often a thorn in Logan’s side, with his stupid jokes and snarky attitude, but his technical prowess made him an invaluable citizen of Goshen.

  Two teams of four Eagles stood by; stacked up and ready to go. They stood along the wall, out of the blast area and waited for Corporal Wicks’ bomb to explode.

  Corporal Wicks and his two riflemen ran back into the tree line and took cover. The wait stretched out as though time itself had slowed by a factor of ten. In reality, it was only a sixty-second timer.

  Major Logan became aware of his heavy breathing as he lay behind the tree, ducked down behind the truck to avoid shrapnel. He wasn’t dumb enough to peek out and look. He knew that if you could see the blast, it could hit you. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  A thundering explosion rattled the ground, vibrated through his chest, and echoed off of the mountains surrounding the valley. Rocks and wood splinters fell around him and a cloud of dust filled the air. Now Major Logan peeked around the tree and saw the two teams moving along the wall and into the space beyond, whatever lay in wait for them.

  No shots.

  Bounding over watch, Major Logan thought, recalling his training from his Army days.

  He rose up on one knee, gave the signal, and waved the point team forward while his Eagles observed. Eight Eagles already through the door, another four heading through, and his eight soldiers covering.

  Once the point team was through the door, Major Logan stood up and led the remaining Eagles through the settling dust. As he approached the wall, he saw the bomb had blown a sizable chunk out of the wall. Pieces of stone and wood littered the ground. A small crater marked the area where the door used to stand.

  Still no sounds. The forest had gone still following the explosion and it was eerily quiet.

  Through the crumbling wall, Major Logan saw what appeared to be a courtyard just as he’d suspected. It was empty save for several small, smoldering fire pits. Some of them had cooking spits set up over them. Debris was scattered everywhere from the explosion.

  He felt like he stepped out of a time machine after being transported back in time. The scene was odd, a contrast of the modern-looking Eagles and the ancient-looking rock walls, fire pits, and the remnants of the carved wooden doors. Multiple boulders rose out of the ground, some twisted and shaped by the river when it had covered this part of land a millennia ago.

  Major Logan grimaced when he saw exactly what he suspected. There was a second wall and another ornately carved door. He continued into the area and took cover behind one of the boulders. The CAW cleared the area. The two flank teams were already stacked up on the new door ready to breach it. Unlike the first door, this one was cracked open. Whether it was accidentally left open by fleeing Vipers or part of a trap, he couldn’t tell.

  SSGT Raiford jogged over to him. “We’re ready to breach the door, sir.”

  “I see that.”

  “I’d like to pop smoke if you don’t mind, sir.”

  “Make it so, Sergeant,” Major Logan said, waving his hand. “Toss some frags too. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  SSGT Raiford grinned and nodded. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded to the other team leader. He also motioned for the fragmentation grenades that Major Logan wanted thrown. SSGT Raiford pulled a frag grenade from his own vest and walked closer to the second wall.

  The
team to the left of the door took a few steps back from the wall, so they could safely throw their grenades over. Four Eagles held frag grenades, while the other four Eagles to the right of the door held smoke canisters. Raiford held his grenade up to his chest and pulled the pin out. He continued holding the metal tab, called the spoon, so the grenade was safe.

  “Smoke first,” Staff Sergeant Raiford said. “Three, two, one.”

  When he said, “one,” the Eagles tossed their canisters. One went through the door and three went over the wall in slightly different directions to give them good coverage.

  “Frag, out,” SSGT Raiford said, as he threw his grenade high and far over the wall. The four Eagles followed suit, throwing their grenades just like the others had thrown the smoke — one through the door and three over the wall. As soon as they released their grenades, they lined up on the wall to wait for the explosions before breaching.

  Major Logan smirked, hoping they’d get lucky and tag a few Vipers with some shrapnel just for fun. He could hear the smoke grenades hissing. Thick, gray smoke rose in the air. A series of loud bangs signaled the detonation of the grenades.

  The team on the right rushed forward and filed through the door. As soon as the last man entered, the team on the left followed suit with their rifles raised and ready.

  Still no shots, no shouts, and no screams of pain.

  Major Logan counted in his head, giving the two teams enough time to clear the immediate area. Two soldiers would stay behind to secure their rear while the other six would accompany Major Logan into the Devil’s Meadow, which was now more like the Devil’s Lair.

  Running forward, he led his team through the door into the next space, entirely unsure what to expect. A breeze blew through, making the smoke swirl and rush over more of the same type of boulders as the previous courtyard.

  Still no shots. No Vipers in sight.

  One of the flank teams moved up on the right side. All he saw were the dark shapes of his Eagles moving through the smoke. They rushed around a boulder with their rifles raised, that much was clear.

  A sudden blast lit up the area, flashing orange against the smoke. Major Logan threw himself onto the ground. The blast wave crashed over him, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He could feel fragments of debris kicked up from the explosion ricocheting off of the boulder next to him, stinging his arms and shoulders.

  Then, he heard another blast to the left. Major Logan flinched and rolled against the rock. He wished the rough stone would envelop and protect him. Instead, flecks of dirt and stone struck his hands and peppered his uniform, stinging his legs and arms again. Several shots cracked through the air.

  “Help,” a man yelled. He made a whimpering sound. The air filled with a chorus of cries from injured Eagles.

  Major Logan rolled away from the rock. He rose up into a crouch and peered around the rock, searching for the man. Most of the smoke cleared so it didn’t take long to spot him.

  Before Logan could say or do anything, he heard the whoosh of bowstrings and arrows seemingly sprung from the man’s chest. He made a gurgling sound as his head slumped back against the ground.

  A breath caught in Major Logan’s throat and a pang of guilt tore at him. He realized he couldn’t even remember the man’s name. He pounded his fist against the rock in anger and searched desperately for the enemy. Another whoosh and the rest of the injured soldiers were silenced like the man that Major Logan had witnessed.

  A growl rumbled in Major Logan’s chest and he stood up, leaning against the boulder. He gasped as he saw what he vaguely remembered from his previous visit there. Tall cliffs and rocky outcroppings surrounded the meadow.

  Caves, large and small, dotted the rocky terrain. Each cave had at least one Viper aiming a bow right at him. The Eagles outgunned the Vipers, but they were grossly outnumbered. Few Eagles remained. It was pointless to continue the fight.

  Sure, he could take out one or two, but it would do nothing to bring back the dead.

  He felt defeated but he didn’t budge. It would hurt his pride too much to let it show so quickly.

  “You came in with twenty-one. Now you only have eight,” a man said. His voice was even, authoritative, and matter-of-fact. He was not boasting, but in a way that infuriated Major Logan even more. Through the lingering haze from the smoke grenades, Logan could make out the form of a young man standing atop a large boulder. A man he’d seen several times before.

  “Drop your weapon, no one else needs to die here today,” the young man said.

  Major Logan became aware of the remaining Eagles around him. Angela, a new Eagle, to his right raised her rifle toward the man on the boulder.

  Four arrows struck her so fast it was as if they were fired from the same bow. Three sank deep into her chest and the final arrow nearly passed through her skull. Had the shaft been two inches shorter, it would have flown through her head and into the rock wall behind them that was boxing them in.

  Angela slumped to the ground with a stunned look frozen on her face.

  The man’s head bowed, as he released a heavy sigh. “Now you only have seven,” he said sadly. Then he spoke in the same calm, authoritative voice. “Put down your weapons. No one else needs to die today.”

  All eyes turned toward Major Logan. His remaining soldiers wanted to know what their commander had in store for them. For a split-second, Major Logan wasn’t sure what to do. Then he grimaced and stood up. Several Eagles gasped in surprise. Logan knew they were done for. Like the man said, there was no reason for anyone else to die.

  He held his rifle by the barrel raised away from his body. “I am Major Logan, commander of the Goshen Eagles. Let your leader step forward so we can come to terms.”

  “If your soldiers drop their weapons, then they are welcome here. Peace with Goshen has been a long time coming.” The man jumped down off the boulder and approached slowly with his hands held out from his sides, with his palms facing them. He stopped forty meters away. “Drop your weapons. Until then there will be no terms.”

  Major Logan glowered at him, thinking through the options.

  “Look around Major Logan, commander of the Goshen Eagles. You are surrounded and covered from an elevated position,” he said. He looked thoughtfully at Major Logan.

  Feeling like he was under evaluation, Major Logan shifted slightly under the young man’s gaze.

  Behind the Eagles, the old wooden door slammed shut. They could hear metal sliding against metal. Major Logan risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the bolts pushed into place, locking them inside. There was no room left for choice in the equation. It was either fight and die, or comply and hope for mercy.

  Major Logan looked at the few remaining Eagles: SSGT Raiford, Corporal Wicks, PVT Pyle, PVT Brown, and couple of others he didn’t know quite as well. He motioned for all of them to lower their weapons. He lowered his own and defiantly met the gaze of Vipers’ leader.

  “Major, sir. We can take these fools,” PVT Brown said. He held onto his rifle.

  “Lower the weapon, private,” Major Logan said. “That’s an order.”

  PVT Brown glanced at SSGT Raiford, who was glaring at him.

  “You heard the Major, Private.” SSGT Raiford leaned his own rifle against a boulder beside him.

  “With all due respect, this is bullshit, sir,” the young man said. He hesitated, but eventually complied with the order.

  Major Logan made a mental note to deal with PVT Brown later. If there was a later. He stared with a level gaze at the Viper’s apparent leader.

  “Good choice. Now you, Major,” the man said. His brown curls waved in the breeze as the last of the smoke cleared. A smirk was evident beneath his trimmed beard.

  Major Logan leaned his rifle against the rock and clenched his fists at his sides.

  “Now, please come in Major. You and I have a lot to discuss,” the man said, gesturing to the cave behind him. “But your dogs must stay in the yard until we come to terms.”

 
; “Fine,” Major Logan said through clenched teeth. He narrowed his eyes. “What’s your name? I’d like to know who I’m coming to terms with.”

  The smirk grew into a wide grin and the man raised a hand to stroke the point of his beard. “You can call me Brady.”

  “My soldiers will remain unharmed, I trust.”

  “We’ll be fine, sir. We can handle ourselves,” SSGT Raiford said in a gruff tone.

  Major Logan raised his hand to silence Raiford.

  “Sir-”

  Logan shot him a look that cut his words off.

  Brady looked around at the bodies of the dead Eagles with a shocked and slightly bemused look on his face. Then he looked at the remaining soldiers, lingering on PVT Brown and SSGT Raiford. Finally, he met Logan’s gaze. “What remains of your meager force will remain unharmed, so long as they behave.”

  Brady motioned for Major Logan to follow him.

  The major glanced at his men, wondering if it would be his last time to see them. With a silent nod, he started after Brady.

  “Stop!” a Viper shouted.

  Major Logan glared at the Viper, thinking the idiot hadn’t realized his leader motioned for him to follow.

  Brady whipped around then held up a hand at Major Logan. “Stop walking, Major. You need to back up, and go the other way around the boulder.” He pointed at the ground in front of Major Logan.

  Stopping and glancing down, Major Logan noticed a trip wire less than six inches away. Then he searched the area in front of him. About twenty meters away was another claymore, roughly camouflaged against one of the many boulders that were strewn about the meadow. His eyes grew and he slowly backed up until he was well away from the tripwire.