by Paul Kirk
“True.”
“I’m going out front now to show them how good.”
“Let’s take it to them, JJ.”
CHAPTER 9.12-Playing with C-4
“Team Black, do you copy?” asked Mickey into his radio. His team, Team Green, was tucked behind the public library on Brownsville Road, nearly a half mile behind the main unit.
“This is Black. Go, Green.” Captain Daubney was leading Team Black.
“Black, they’re ditching stealth—they’re coming hard. Trying to make up ground. Over.” Mickey had set the explosives strategically. He was trying to create a ditch in the asphalt and a roadblock for Phoenix, one that would slow them considerably.
“Their patience has worn thin, Green. Slow ‘em down. Over.”
“Copy that, Black. It’ll be my pleasure. Over.”
“Has Santa placed the gifts under the tree? Over.”
“Yes, sir, the gifts are in place. Over.”
“Good news, Green. Vacate area ASAP. Over.”
“That’s a negative, Black. Over.”
“Say again, Green.”
“The remote’s not functioning, sir. One of Santa’s elves has to stay behind to make sure everyone gets their gifts. Over.”
“Green, that’s a negative on staying behind. Do you copy?”
“Black, I gotta deliver the gifts and its gotta be in person—within close proximity. Over.”
“Green, I want you to open the gifts now and bug out. Over.”
“Sir, there’s no one there to receive the gifts. Over.”
“Mickey, just open the gifts. That’s an order. Over.”
“Understood, sir. Your order will be carried out in a minute. But I suggest waiting a few more minutes to let some of the kids come a little closer—you know, see the presents up real close. They’re getting closer, Black. Over.”
“Green, I appreciate your tactical efforts to engage the kids, but you’re up against an experienced bunch. Over.”
“Copy that, Black. Our new commander hasn’t seen Team Green in action. You might wanna fill him in. Over.”
Connor was walking with Captain Daubney and overheard the exchange. It was most likely what Mickey had intended. Mickey knew that it would be a test of Connor’s leadership and it would gauge his willingness to let the men in the field take initiative when required. Connor suppressed a grin. He valued men who were able to take charge of a developing tactical situation to achieve an improved outcome. Connor thought the new Top was probably such a man.
The captain took Connor’s silence as disapproval and felt the need to explain the first sergeant’s words. “Sir, there’s no one better than Mickey at blowing shit up. He’s impervious to damage, colonel.”
“Okay, captain, tell him to use his best judgment, but only one man should stay behind—the others should join the main force immediately.”
“Okay, Green, the new commander acknowledges your tactical command and agrees with your strategy. Make it happen with only one man, Mickey, and start the rest of your team back to the main unit. Be home for dinner. Over.”
“Understood, sir. Green out.” Mickey used the NVG assessing the progress of the enemy team moving up Brownsville Road. The lead men had abandoned stealth and were coming fast. Despite the quickness of their advance, their movements were exceptionally well choreographed. He scanned a broader area and caught the whispers of two other groups skirting the houses and apartment buildings on the side of the street opposite the library. Each man moved with purpose and one group was nearly on top of the hidden explosives.
“That’s right, keep comin’.” Mickey readied the manual trigger. There were five men in the lead—they would surely die in the explosion. Mickey was disappointed that no more would fall within the radius of the blast. “We’re live, gentlemen,” he said into the radio. “Take cover and then move out. Fire in the hole!”
He pressed the trigger and the explosion rocked him backwards despite the fact he was fifty yards from the kill zone. A fireball lit up the sky and the explosion reverberated. The five enemy men in the lead were instantly vaporized and Mickey’s hope was that the casualty list was longer than those five. One thing was for certain, though—there was a huge hole in the road and the enemy vehicles would have to find another route in their continued pursuit.
CHAPTER 9.13-Watching the Fireworks
“Wow!” said Cody. The explosion lit up the night sky for several seconds and the massive sound reverberated in lingering echoes.
All three children had stopped to watch the fiery sky.
“What is that, Nully?” asked Gabriella. The fireball mesmerized her.
“It’s some explosives our guys used to keep the bad guys away, Gabby. Don’t worry.”
“’Kay.” Gabby returned to ripping cooked dog meat off the bone with her strong white teeth, but she moved a little closer to her brother.
“Are you guys doing okay?” asked Roger.
“Sure, Dad,” said Cody.
“Good. We gotta keep moving. That was our team setting off the explosives. Stay sharp.”
“We will.”
Roger returned to Rhonda who was a few yards ahead of the kids. They were nearly ten yards behind Connor and Captain Daubney. “Those were some nice fireworks, Mac,” he said loudly.
“Yeah, they were. That should slow them bastards down.”
Daubney held the radio to his ear. “Sir, Mickey says he caught at least five men in the blast.”
“Excellent news, captain. Tell him to haul ass and return back here with the team ASAP. I’m worried about a pincer movement when we get closer to Route 51. With his force of equipment and men, catching us from behind is a concern.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let all the teams know to form up at our primary rendezvous before we exit to the secondary.”
“You don’t think we can hold them off, colonel?”
“With all the shit that went down, they’re gonna be coming hard and fast. We need to be gone. Like now. We’ll take Route 51 south down into Uniontown and meet up at the hospital rendezvous.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem unconvinced, captain. Speak your mind.”
“Sir?”
“You’ll see what you’re up against soon enough, captain. Probably before the hour is out—trust me on this.”
“Yes, sir, I will. But the road’s blown and they’re too far back. They can’t possibly interfere now. They won't mount a full attack at night or until they make a working corridor for their trucks and supply line.”
“I think you’re wrong, captain. Phoenix will make good use of side roads to regain Brownsville on the other side of that hole. I expect he’ll engage a shitload of men on foot to try to overwhelm us.”
“His trucks will be delayed, colonel.”
“Yes, of course. So will his cavalry. He probably doesn’t want them running hard at night. He’ll need to explore side streets and find a path. That adds at least a mile to his pursuit—maybe more if he makes a wrong turn. But he’s sharp enough to know that the trucks are not the primary factor of engagement in driving his assault forward right now. He’ll set that up for later, but he’ll send everything he’s got on foot and that’s a considerable force. He’ll probably keep the quads and bikes in check to conserve the batteries at night. Until dawn, those vehicles won’t be a factor.”
Captain Daubney sighed heavily, unconvinced but hesitant to ask further questions of his new commanding officer.
“Captain?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I was serious when I told you to speak freely. I already value your input and I know you bring substantial military expertise to the conversation. You wouldn’t be a captain on Starkes’ staff if you were any less of a soldier and tactician. So, please continue to voice your concerns. And don’t worry—I don’t get off on command. I’ve fought too many times to get the right man to make the right decision. I welcome your input, captain—believe it.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, sir.”
“Remember that’s not my style. Period. Now, I’m not saying I won’t be pissed off at you every now and then, but you’re an intelligent part of this army and I wouldn’t be a very good commanding officer if I didn’t value your judgment. So...let’s have it.”
“Okay, sir,” said the captain hesitatingly. “Why’d we waste the C4 to blow that hole if it doesn’t allow us to complete the extraction at Route 51?”
“That C4 changes the tactical playing field. Now, Phoenix is playin’ my game.”
“I don’t understand, colonel.”
“We’re gonna separate and annihilate, captain. And our target is Phoenix the Puta.”
“What?”
“You’ve heard of Genghis Khan?”
“Of course, sir.”
“We’re spreading Phoenix’s army out much more than he’d like. We’re testing his emotional stability as a commander right now. We’ll have him placing his flexibility and mobility out front now and testing the limits of our engagement with him. That’s what I want, even though it’ll push us past the primary rendezvous and into our secondary options.”
“We’re running away, sir? Why can’t we dig in and defend, colonel?”
“Right now, captain, I’m real interested in sapping his flexibility and mobility. With that many men, horses, and machines coming down on us, we’ll have to keep our fade on like a finely tuned machine.”
“You’re talking retreat, you know that colonel? You give that prick Phoenix too much credit, sir.”
“Even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a awhile, captain. Phoenix is no slouch. He’s got control of those men—he’s built a formidable army—no small task. He took the Hall of Fame pretty quickly without the element of surprise. You guys barely got out despite your excellent security. Imagine if he had maintained that element of surprise.”
“I see what you mean, sir.”
“Over the past week or so, captain, he’s made some doggedly solid progress toward me and my team. We definitely interrupted his plans to snatch the president and her bird and Phoenix is an unforgiving man.”
“I'll admit, he’s very persistent, sir.”
"You know, I actually thought we got away from Cleveland without a scratch—except for Amanda. Her situation was unknown at the time. Let me tell you something captain...finding out that scumbag and an entire army was on our ass earlier today was a real eye-opener. In fact, it makes me want to meet this man—so I can put a bullet in his brain.”
The captain’s radio squawked and he held it to his ear. After listening for a few moments, he spoke quickly. “Move out, Mickey. All teams must prepare to converge on secondary rendezvous. Prepare for all night travel—primary rendezvous is a no go. Repeat, primary is a no go. Out.”
Connor’s team had never slowed their pace—Connor and Daubney had taken turns checking behind them to verify they hadn’t lost anyone. The captain filled him in with the progress of the other teams.
“Mickey says there’s a whole slew of men barreling down the road on foot. The road on the other side of the hole is filled with men, quads, bikes, and some horses.”
“Go on, captain.”
“Yes, sir. He says those men are hauling ass—pouring over and around the crater like pissed off ants who got their nest poked with a stick.”
“Yeah, we did some poking, that’s for sure.”
“Whatta your orders, colonel?”
“All teams are cleared to fire at will during their fallback. But they need to get their asses back here, right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER 9.14-A Promotion
“That’s a big-ass C4 hole, Phoenix.”
“C4? You sure?”
“I’ve seen my share,” said Larry Reed.
“He’s right, sir,” said Tippy Cup, standing nearby. “Seen a bit myself. The smell's still in the air.”
“Why are you still alive, Tippy? Weren’t you up front here?”
“Yes, sir…I lucked out sittin’ on some of their team that were hiding behind that building when this explosion took out JJ’s team.”
Tippy Cup pointed to a red-bricked apartment complex with no visible glass left intact.
“And you’re here now and not with Luke?”
“Luke nearly killed me when we recovered.”
Tippy Cup removed the scarf held tight to his neck. Blood seeped from a deep slice.
“Said I shoulda seen them setting the trap. But, I told him…I told him I was nowhere near this side.”
Phoenix gritted his teeth, staring beyond the large crater that effectively blocked any progress of his main army vehicles.
“Dammit! Where’s Luke now, uncle?”
“Going after the assholes that blew this hole.”
The sound of faint gunfire exchanges reached their ears in between the rumbling of truck engines, quads and bikes. Quick three-shot bursts of automatic weapons. Larry glanced behind him to see all the trucks had reached the point where they jammed up, until, brigade leaders began turning the vehicles around based on new orders.
“Find secondary or alternate routes around this. Now,” said Larry Reed into the handheld, “Keep two men with each truck while you figure this out. Send men into the side streets. Find a route back to this Brownsville Road or onto Route 51. Have the quads and bikes follow. Keep the cavalry with us, for now.”
With Tippy Cup holding the flashlight, they reviewed the faded map of Pittsburgh found a few days ago.
“Where’s the Ninth brigade?”
“Coming up a road called Nobles Lane off Route 51 up onto Brownsville Road. Making slow progress, but on their way.”
“Send ‘em back down and tell ‘em to continue heading up the bottom of Route 51 south to the intersection of Brownsville.”
“Okay. Yes, sir.”
“Let the Ninth know that it’s not likely that they’ll meet up with this rat-fuck team before Brownsville road, but to try to not get themselves blown up if they can fucking help it.”
“Understood.”
“I want everyone else not on a bike or quad running fast-footed after those fuckers like their lives depended on it.”
“For sure.”
“Make sure the log-sups set up a supply line for essentials and ammo only. Hold back a brigade to assist. Load as much extraneous supplies and equipment as you can onto the trucks. Keep ten men guarding the base supplies until we establish a new route and can come back for ‘em.”
“Got it, Phoenix.”
“Find me a way around this pigshit! Now!”
“Working on it.” Larry relayed orders to his brigade commanders. He saw men gathering up loose equipment and move toward the wreckage near the library. They pushed a small winding passageway through the mess and there was a frenzied excitement in the air. Each man was eager to engage in battle.
“Tell each commander that the brigade that brings me the leader of this running Rat-Pack gets 40,000 credits when we return to Cleveland.”
“I’ll pass it along, nephew.”
“Make it clear that they’re to capture the boy and girl.”
“That’s already a standing order.”
“Tell Luke to keep an eye out for the next batch of explosives, that is, if he doesn’t fuckin’ mind. Let him know I’ll hold him personally responsible if any more of my men are blown up on this road.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How much C4 would it take to blow a hole that size, Tippy?”
“I dunno, a pound, maybe a pound and a half.”
“You think they got any more?”
“Based on my time in, top covert units carried at least two pounds as standard protocol.”
“You think this is a top-shelf unit we’re after?”
Phoenix swung closer to Tippy Cup, staring intently and waiting for an answer. Tippy Cup took a second to slip his left hand into his jean pocket while his right hand continued to hold a scarf pressed to his neck. “I dunno, sir.”
Phoenix continued staring at the small, wiry man. He appeared nervous and uncomfortable. Phoenix backed a step away. “Uncle, It’s obvious Tippy Cup knows more than he is saying, but apparently doesn’t want to be the bearer of, what he thinks, is bad news. Would you mind, being that I’m kinda pressed for time…would you mind letting Tippy know that he can safely speak what he knows, if you would, please?”
The tension in the air rose. Quickly, Larry stopped yelling orders into the radio, moving closer to the conversation. “What’s going on? Tippy, say what you gotta say. You hear me? You got a free pass right now. Isn't that right, Phoenix?”
“Correct. There appears to be a slight window for that.”
Tippy Cup pushed the straggly blonde hair from his brown eyes, assessing his predicament. A calm confidence surrounded him, despite the blood seeping from his neck and the bustling chaos all around. At thirty-two, he was known as a fast-rising star tracker, near Luke in ability, and he’d made a name for himself in the slippery way he fought. Last year, his tactical strategy and overall presence during the annual Cleveland combat games came to the attention of both Larry and Phoenix. Pressing the bloody scarf harder to his neck, he decided he had little to lose after coming so close to death less than a half hour before.
“I think we’re dealing with an elite force and a top-notch leader.”
“Starkes?”
“No, sir. She and her team were probably pretty good, but this team right here comes across as more combat-seasoned, at least on the ground. Highly tactical.”
“In what way?” asked Larry.
“That’s a shitload of C4 just to blow a hole in a road and not kill but a few men. Better planning coulda caught up ten, maybe twenty times that amount.”
“So? They screwed up then—”
“No. That’s just it. That hole there’s meant to slow us down and string us out.”
“Hmm….”
“Plus…” Tippy Cup hesitated.
“Go on,” said Larry Reed, interested.
Phoenix stepped directly in front of Tippy Cup. “Your opinion’s got some weight, Tippy Cup, based on your military record and experience…don’t lose that being a fuckin’ hesitant pussy right now.”