by Paul Kirk
“The shooters are behind the truck, left of center!” radioed Captain Daubney. He had caught sight of the supine men and their launch tubes, but was unsure how many they had.
"I'm engaging, Surf Boy!" said BB. He gently rested the spotting scope on the ground.
"C'mon, then!" yelled Marty, "I'm okay for now. I got some RPG tangos in sight. Come back and spot ASAP."
"Yep. I knew it! You need me."
"Go!"
Though at the edge of the maximum effective range of his M-4, BB grabbed his weapon and carefully let loose a full clip at the truck. His shots held true in the target range striking the cab and front grill. Immediate return fire bellowed forth from the front line of Phoenix’s army. Several rounds landed mere inches from BB. He snatched the radio.
“Shit, Mac, they’re getting a bead. Over.” His spot was fairly hidden from enemy fire by thick boulders and he stayed low. Marty, a few feet away, did the same.
The distinctive sound of a fifty caliber unleashed its echoes across the mountain ravine. A steady barrage of bullets decimated the wooden picnic benches, the trees, the waste containers, and the small restroom facility near their position. The gun churned until it stopped abruptly.
“One down, Mac,” reported BB. “Surf Boy says he got the angle, but claims he was lucky. Over.”
“Copy that. Keep at it. Another man will take his place at the gun. Over.”
“Understood. Surf Boy's gonna take a shot to disable the gun. Over.”
Connor’s vantage point was too far to the right—he was unable to see the truck with the fifty caliber, but he studied the men hiding behind the second truck. He noticed they were loading another RPG. With an aim honed through years of experience and training for long-range shooting, Connor took concise aim with the M-4. Firing, he watched the shot strike the man in the hips and he fell out of sight. Another man launched from behind the truck. “Incoming!” yelled Connor.
The RPG vaporized the small restroom facility, raining down debris. “That’s too close, colonel,” said Captain Daubney.
“Yes it is, captain.” They hunkered down, waiting for another blast and it came a few seconds later, barreling across the ravine and striking sixty feet behind them. Exploding trees were instantly uprooted and one fell dangerously close to where Daubney and Connor lay. On the heels of the second explosion came the chug, chug, chug of another fifty caliber raining death on anyone who dared to move in the Lick Hollow picnic area.
“Colonel, the trucks and horses are advancing under cover of the fifty. Small arms fire.”
Connor turned to Captain Daubney. They shared a spot behind a boulder that would withstand the onslaught of the fifty caliber rounds, but not the power of the RPGs.
“You look a bit concerned, colonel.”
“Captain, this might be a little harder than I thought it would be.”
CHAPTER 11.10-Five Cases of Big Momma's Ale
“Commander Del Re, were you involved in the explosion outside the southern gate?” asked Major O’Malley. He took another small sip of his second glass of ale, trying to make it last, and waited for the commander to answer. Amanda and Colonel Starkes looked at Del Re as he stood and began to pace the room.
“No, major, that wasn’t me. I figured it was Connor Mac and his team. He told me he had some explosives left. If it was me though, I would’ve collapsed the overpass to slow ‘em down.”
“You told us the plan was to minimize the onslaught in town. You said he wanted to keep Phoenix’s men moving through here, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“When did Colonel MacMillen and his men leave?”
“Right after we set up the charges they headed through the gates.”
“So they left after your people were safely hidden?” asked Colonel Starkes.
“Yes, ma’am. Connor Mac has some business on that mountain. He asked a lot of questions about Nemacolin. He asked if Mark—General Mark Harmon—was still there.”
Colonel Starkes recalled her conversation with Major McLoy. She knew the name Mark Harmon was important, but her level of exhaustion was making her fuzzy. “Those are his mountains, right? Mark’s with Bastin, isn’t he?”
“It’s more like Commander Bastin’s with General Harmon.”
“Okay, I see.” She moved to the window and peered outside, catching sight of Major McLoy. She knocked on the window for his attention and, when he saw her, she beckoned him inside. He entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“Ma'am?"
"Major McLoy, we’re having a discussion and I could use your input.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood near the table, glancing at the ale. The colonel smiled and Commander Del Re grabbed another glass for the major.
“You have to have one of Momma’s Best while we talk.”
“That sounds good, Del. I've always had a taste for it.”
“Good. Here you go.”
Major McLoy took a long pull from his glass and raised a questioning eyebrow toward Colonel Starkes. He wiped the foam from his lips.
“Tell me more about Mark Harmon, major,” prompted the colonel.
“Ah, yes. General Harmon and Connor Mac are tight, ma’am, like brothers. Mark’s a smart guy. He owns the mountain now—nothing goes on within twenty miles of Nemacolin without him knowing it. And if you’re doing something he doesn’t like, he’ll come after ya.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s got the best army around here. He doesn’t take everyone that volunteers, ma’am, so everyone in his army is honored to be there. He’s turned that place into a great little town, ma’am.”
“Do you think it’s possible he was expecting Colonel MacMillen?”
“Now?”
“Yes, Keenan. Now.”
“Um, no, ma’am. General Harmon hasn't seen him in over five years. But maybe it’s not unreasonable to think that they had some plan, you know?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that Connor Mac could show up at some point. At any point. In the meantime, the general’s forming his army—yeah, maybe, I could see that.”
“So, Connor Mac’s coming home with an enemy army following him and Mark’s military forces are supposed to deal with it?”
“Um, I’m not sure that was Mac’s plan, ma’am—that seems kinda stupid.”
“I agree.”
“But do you think it was Mac’s intent all along to make it here? You know, back to his family?”
“Sure, it’s what I would do.”
"Hmm."
“He’s coming home, ma’am—it just took him some time to do that.”
“Yeah, major, I think you’re right.”
“If Mac sets his mind on something, ma’am, there’s no stoppin’ him,” suggested Amanda.
Colonel Starkes looked at Amanda in frustration. “Colonel MacMillen’s determination is not in question here.”
“I’m just pointing it out, colonel.”
“I know.”
“What should we do now, ma’am?” asked Major O’Malley.
“Tell Shamus and the team that we’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
“Colonel, when Connor Mac was here, some of his men took advantage of our dentist. Do any of your men need a dentist, ma’am?”
“Yes, commander. We could use some time in the chair—all of us, I’m sure. I’m afraid we don't have the time right now. Major? What do you think?”
“It’s something we can come back for, ma’am. I say we stick with your plan to leave in twenty.”
“Okay, that’s settled. Now, commander, how much of this ale are you willing to part with and what do you want in trade?”
“I knew you liked that ale, ma’am! A woman after my own heart! Madam President, it’d be my honor to give you a few cases—that way I can claim that the President of the United States prefers my ale.”
“I promise to tell everyone I meet about your ale, commander.”
“Is three cases enough, ma’am?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Major O’Malley.
“Ready the bird, major.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Commander Del Re, it was a true pleasure meeting you. I’d like to come back sometime and discuss your thoughts on rebuilding the infrastructure in this country.”
“Colonel, you and your men are welcome anytime.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer, commander.”
“I understand, ma’am. Connor Mac could probably use your help right about now.”
CHAPTER 11.11-A Feeding Frenzy
“We’re hammering ‘em, sir. They’re in that little offshoot about five hundred yards up the road. Over.”
“I see that, Luke. How many of ‘em are there? Over.”
“There’s about ten or so, sir. Over.”
“Are there any children? Over.”
“No, sir, not that we’ve seen. Over.”
“They probably sent them ahead to the top of the mountain while they’re trying to slow us down. Keep hammering ‘em, Luke. You're getting the job done. Over.”
“Yes, sir. Over and out.”
“Hold on, Luke. Are you there? Over.”
“Yes, sir, I’m still here. Over.”
“I’m coming up, Luke. Keep at ‘em until I get there. Let loose anything that you and Commander Kaiden feel will knock their asses on the ground. Phoenix out.”
“Roger that, sir,” said Luke, smiling at the devastation the front line was unleashing against the small enemy force. A fifth RPG hit a building near where he suspected the sniper was. Beside him, the fifty caliber continued its deadly barrage.
“What’s next, Luke?” asked Kaiden.
Luke didn’t hesitate—he smelled blood. “We press our advantage, commander.”
“Okay. How?”
“Commander, those are your men laying there on that road. Go get those pukes who killed ‘em.”
“Yes, sir,” said the brigade commander. He readied the remainder of his cavalry for a full push up the mountain road. His men had stayed on their mounts, waiting for the go signal. The commander prepared his men for a full assault. All thirty-three in the second planned wave looked eager to revenge the deaths of their comrades.
“They shot our horses, commander. That’s just not right,” said one of his men.
“That sniper don’t know that, Taz. We’re gonna tell ‘im. Listen up!” he yelled to them. “We will not stop until we take that outcropping. Do you understand?”
There was a chorus of agreement. It sent a tingle up the commander’s spine. He knew his men were ready to do some real damage and he mounted his own horse and turned it to face the trucks and the enemy beyond. With a determined flair, he pointed his M-4 up the hill. “We take ‘em now!”
He burst from the cover of the trucks without knowing if his men were following and spurred his horse into a full gallop. His horse weaved through the bodies of its fallen brethren without slowing and continued up the road. He heard the yells of his men and their horses not far behind him. He smiled and let loose a battle cry that echoed across the ravine.
“Good luck, Kaiden,” whispered Luke.
Larry Reed and Phoenix arrived a few seconds later at Luke’s position behind the trucks. Phoenix ignored the cautious warnings of his two personal guards and strolled to Luke’s position. There was little fire coming from the enemy sniper position and Phoenix tasted the imminent capture of at least part of the pesky Rat Pack.
“Look at that cavalry, Luke,” said Phoenix, crouching beside him and staring at the back of Kaiden’s advancing brigade.
“We got ‘em, sir.”
“It seems like it, Luke.”
“Dobbin’s cavalry unit is ready to go, sir,” said Larry Reed.
“Excellent, uncle. Send ‘em now. They’re angry bastards and whoever Kaiden’s cavalry don’t finish, those boys will. They won’t be denied.”
“Yes, sir.” Larry Reed raised the radio to his lips and began issuing orders. He smiled at the sheer volume and force of men and machines hidden behind the curve of the road. He was no longer worried about a reserve force—energized, he was caught up in the brutal force he had at his disposal. He appreciated the steady drone of the fifty caliber and its deadly rhythm.
“Once they're past the trucks,” yelled Phoenix, “start sending the men on foot along the sides of the road behind him. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They have nothing left up there, uncle. We’ll have their balls on a plate before you know it. Our men are pissed—they lost too many of their friends over the last few days. It’d be nice if we could kill ‘em more than once.”
“I agree. This is gonna be like shooting rats with an elephant gun.”
The trucks had begun their advance behind the cavalry, both groups safe under the constant fire of the fifty caliber and intermittent RPG launches. Phoenix’s awareness of the power he held was intoxicating. He knew nobody survived such devastation.
“That’s true, uncle. It would be overkill if he wasn’t such an annoying little rat.”
As Phoenix appreciated the battle unfolding, the image of Renaldo shooting him came unbidden to his mind. The pain in his foot surged at the memory and he hoped that Renaldo and Gabriella were away from this brutal annihilation, safe and available for capture later in the day. He had plans for them both. He had plans for any other survivors of this infuriating Rat Pack. A surge of pleasure tingled in his groin and he slapped Larry on the back, yelling to ensure he was heard.
“Let's grab the truck. Come with me—we need to follow the horde before they get too far outta control.”
Luke had followed the men in a truck and Larry Reed issued final orders to him over the radio. He made it clear that losses weren’t a concern as long as they took the picnic area. They were nearing the end.
CHAPTER 11.12-The Summit Garrison Gates
“Okay, everyone, listen up,” said John McLeod. They had slowed their pace dramatically to compensate for the increasing elevation of the roadway and John was having some trouble catching his breath. He glared at Mickey who was barely breathing hard. The boys were sweating, but not winded.
“Let’s take a minute here,” said John, indicating a couple large rocks on which to sit or lean. Rice was tucked low by the guardrail, searching downrange for enemy targets. Seeing them stop ahead, he settled low and waited for them to move again.
Rhonda dismounted from her horse and helped Gabby from hers. She looked a question at Jackson. “I’d like to get down, ma’am,” he said, “but I’m not sure I’d make it back up without a lotta help.” She nodded and turned to the rest of the group. Sadly, her eyes fell upon the unmoving body of Burroughs strapped across the back of her horse.
“This’ll only take a minute, Jackson,” said McLeod. “Other than taking a rest here, I want to discuss our strategy for gaining entrance to the gates. Since those gates are in sight, they see us now and are probably discussing exactly how to treat our small unknown force.”
John regarded each of them. “There’s a possibility that we won’t even make it to the gates—they might shoot us before we arrive. But we don’t have any choice—we need their help. BB needs their help. Marty needs their help. Connor Mac needs their help. Edgars and Daubney, they all need the help.”
He took a short drink of water. “Okay, I caught my breath. Let’s push forward—I'll walk and talk at the same time.”
Mickey lifted Gabby to the saddle in front of Jackson before helping Rhonda into her saddle in front of Burroughs’ body. Her horse nodded its head in minor defiance, but calmed at a touch from McLeod.
John began the uphill climb again with a slow and steady pace—he didn’t
want to be winded when he began negotiations with those behind the gate. “The trick to this is to find someone who knows Mac’s name and to convince that person that Mac and his men are in trouble. The sounds from below will certainly emphasize that point.”
He took another pull from his canteen, swished it in his mouth, and spit it out. “We’re all armed, except Gabby. Nobody should be holding their weapon in a threatening way—we need to approach in a manner close to pleading.”
“I’m not sure I like that word, John.”
“Nor do I, Rhonda, but we must show them that we desperately need their help as quickly as possible.”
Rhonda tried to find fault with John’s logic, but nodded in agreement.
“Top, I know you'd rather rage at those closed gates until you got what you wanted, but suppress the urge. This is a time for silence unless you’re asked a direct question and, even then, I'd ask that you defer to me, if you would.”
“I can do that, sir.”
“Good, Mickey, I know I can count on you. Okay, everyone. Let's go."
Nearing the gate, they heard widespread movement behind the chest-high metal plating placed atop the gate. Numerous individuals were manning the gate, presumably standing on a walkway on the far side of it. The gunfire and explosions near the base of the mountain had certainly heightened their surveillance. Visualizing the organized chaos behind that barrier, John was concerned that the added turmoil happening might jeopardize timely negotiations.
Continuing their steady walk, John realized the gate was constructed using tractor-trailer beds stacked atop each other and set perpendicular to the narrowest roadbed near the summit. The gate spanned the entire road width, anchored into the mountain rock on the left and situated all the way to the steep edge of the ravine on the right. The tractor-trailers were stacked three high and bulldozer buckets rested side-by-side across the base of the gate. John and his team stopped their advance at a screeching sound. Two small pieces of gate plating in the center and near the top had shifted from small openings. Weapons were slipped through and pointed in their direction. Upon further inspection, John discovered another twenty small holes cut into the plating interspersed at regular intervals. The two gate windows nearest the center were open. The movement of men behind the gate increased.