If the commander had been feeling poetic he would have wondered at being able to experience the world like a bird, watching the land fall away with a few effortless motions. To be free of the grasp of planetary shackles for a few minutes, to have your world grow in size from the earth to the sky.
Gunfire........
“Sir, we’re receiving fire.” It was the platoon leader, a corporal.
“How many?” The commander was concentrating on the pictures, from one of the horizontal slits in the main building he saw a muzzle flash.
“Just two, I think, sir.” The reply was calm, professional.
“Sir, it’s Birk.” He reported in with bad news. “They’re getting closer.”
“Okay,” The commander tapped his index finger on the screen. “Hojo, aim your 30’s at the second window on the right from the entrance. I see a muzzle flash.”
“Target acquired, sir.”
“Fire!”
The window erupted in a hail of exploding cement. The dust enveloped the target like a gritty fog. All that was visible was firecracker lights continuing to explode around the window. Whatever had been there was silenced for now. A second 30 millimeter machine gun pair opened up. This time it was from behind the commander.
“Sir, we have company.” It was Birk. The thrumming machine guns echoed through the radio.
“I need the closest 75 millimeter to the fence.” The commander called out on his open line. “I need a shell point blank into the lock.”
“Yes sir.” The lizard like form of a Stryker moved passed his vehicle. Its’ turret lowered toward the glittering silver bars. It focused on a small box on the right hand side while the commanders’ machine guns probed for possible anti-tank gun fire. A shudder went through the vehicle as it fired A huge billowing, explosion rose up from the point of contact as the fence began to open slowly, nudged open by the physics of a 75 millimeter shell. Sparks trailed away from the point of impact. The electronic lock had been obliterated.
“Go!” He shouted to his driver and the vehicle began to move forward. “Follow us in, Birk. Collapse the pocket”
“Yes sir.” There was a shade of relief in his voice as machine gun fire echoed from the radio.
The commander’s Stryker turned left slightly once inside the gate to allow others room. After a few tense moments the commander knew that whoever was here had no anti-tank weapons. Two more vehicles made their way into the gate followed by the platoon of troops. The corporal in charge kept shooting glances over his shoulder. His big concern was to stay ahead of the slow, cumbersome figures heading toward the gate.
The platoon scurried close to the Stryker’s wheels for safety. A few ducked under a brief volley of fire from the main building again. The commander tested his repaired machine guns and found them sluggish but effective. He grabbed the handle and felt the vibration of the rapid fire weapons. He wasn’t sure if he was hitting anything. That wasn’t the point. This was cover fire, allowing his platoon to get into position and assault the building. The back of another Stryker opened slowly to disgorge more troops to tip the odds further in their favor.
Smoke grenades ballooned in front of the entrance, perfect cover. Men with weapons raised and in crouching position moved forward at a quick step. The commander fired a second burst above the soldier’s heads to keep the enemy pinned. A hand raised and tossed a canister into the building. A brilliant flash and a quick report brought the troops to their feet as they charged inside. The flash bang grenade had done its job. The shouting began a few seconds later.
OKAY!! OKAY! WHOA-WHOA!!WHOA!
The smoke began to clear like early morning mist retreating from sunshine. The figures came out one by one guided roughly by his soldiers. Their hands were behind their heads, covered in dust, one man sported a blackened spot on the side of his face, a flash bang could burn like that. The commander eased himself up through the hatch and began to climb down the side of his Stryker. No casualties, good.
BOOOOOOOM!!!!!!
A fireball rose 150 yards away in the compound, it was like the misshaped head of a monster threatening their position. Specks of flaming debris began to rain down here and there. The prisoners and their captors alike ducked for cover under the new metal rain. The commander tried to find its’ source with a hand over his eyes to shade out the sunlight.
He tried to jog his memory. Amid the chaos, firing, orders, counter orders and fighting, there had been something there.
A helicopter……
The body of the machine was burning fiercely now as the blades seemed to fall like petals from a dying flower. Flames licked around the inside of the machine and finally burned away and caused the plexi-glass windows to melt and pop out, they landed on the grass and concrete sizzling while their curved surface rocked back and forth. A second explosion inside the cabin, probably a fuel line, erupted and sent a second fireball into the sky. It was a smaller, less voracious. But it made sure no one was getting their hands on this special kind of technology.
Gunfire.......
“Damnit.” The commander scrambled up his machine to the radio. “What have we got?”
“We’re taking fire from the second level, sir.” The Corporal’s breathing was coming right through the speaker, “two, maybe three bad guys.”
“Okay, call in Able and Baker platoons” The commander realized the building was built like a fortress. But this fort had too few people to man it. The ways in would be easy. “Have Able find a way in on the right and Baker on the left. Let’s box them in.”
“Birk, how is.....” his words trailed off as he turned the way that they had come in. “My god...” the words escaped from his mouth.
Birks’ vehicle was slowly backing into the fence while he fired another burst at the closest group. They scattered all over the grass like careless lawn decorations. There were thousands gathered at the first security fence pushing....pushing ....pushing. The concrete embedded posts began to bend to sheer, brute force. The top of the fence began collapsing into the grass inside Fort Knox. Figures began scurrying like spiders up the steel rungs. Birk was watching the deluge pouring through the first blasted gate. How do we stop this? Birk fired off one of his few remaining bursts. The shells riddled through the skin of the walking scarecrows and a few fell. A knee or cartilage that was hit by the massive shells was obliterated from their bodies. Their center of gravity would fail and the body would crash to the pavement to crawl. They’re still coming. It was a eerie feeling for the commander as we watched Birk back up farther. It’s like shooting at a hailstorm isn’t it? How about the changing of the guard in the tides of time? He kept backing up, relieved at even the most miniscule increase in distance from them.
Safely inside the commander called out for help and began pushing the fence closed. Birk was the last to pass through and he instructed the driver to turn around and push the square backside of the Stryker against the fence as it closed slowly. Satisfied the commander called for a halt and Birk eased down the sloped armor of his vehicle and landed feet first on the ground. The commander’s attention seemed elsewhere as he was looking through the security fence. The slowly gathering pack began to arrive at the new fence line. It was hardly a collective emotion. The responses to the new barricade varied. Hissing, howls of defiance and hands that raked the metal links, feeling for a weakness. The commander’s eyes slowing travelled from one face to the next. It was eerie to spot the threads of humanity they both shared. Dress, hairstyle and even occasional movements, here we are, locked together for the rest of time. The commander felt almost disembodied in the Kentucky sunshine.
He saw a thirteen year old girl. She had been watching him for some time. Her eyes were puss yellow like the rest. She wore a black goth-like long sleeved shirt with tight blue jeans. Her hair was a mixture of rainbows and blacks that had long grown out of any kind of pattern. It was her mouth that made him pause. She did not bare her teeth or hiss at him. Her mouth was a flat line on the right side of her
face while the left was drawn up in almost a half-smile. Her head was arched to the right and raised in that rigid, stiff muscle tone that seemed to dominate the very way they walked. What is she doing?
Do you really think you’re safe? The upward curve of her lips seemed to say. Do you really think this is going to stop us?
More gunfire from the main building, short staccato bursts that were designed to keep the other guy down. They were almost warning shots.
“Let’s go.” The commander said hoarsely as he turned away from the girl. “I want Echo Company to keep a close eye on that fence.”
“Yes sir.”
The bursts continued as he got closer to the building. There had to be no more than two or three of the enemy still resisting. A brutal image passed through him, take them down hard. Have a 75 millimeter poke its gun through one of the window slits and send them to hell.
Is that what you’ve become? Remember, the order you gave last night about a civilian? That’s how it starts, one order at a time. The commander stopped for a moment and considered his options. To his surprise, Birk was still by his side.
“I’m gonna try and talk them into giving up.” He finally mused out loud.
“Yes sir.”
The commander resumed his pace toward the building. He chanced another look over his shoulder. The girl was still there, frozen in time. The lips still curved into that mocking face line. You can’t stop us. We always win, you know we do.
His pace hurried.
“Hold off until I give the word.” The commander spoke into a portable radio that had replaced the personal units. His platoons on the left and right were ready to move and crush what little resistance to his objective was left. “Let’s see if we can’t solve this peacefully.”
“Yes sir.”
“Yes sir, holding position, awaiting your word.”
“Hold your fire!” He raised his voice, it echoed off cement walls and metal doors. The forms firing at his men were somewhere in the dark. The open, two story section had a metal balcony that crossed the entire hall lengthwise. Standard metal railings were the only decorations save for a huge, circular door on the second level. The vault, the commander recognized it. That had to be the vault. A silence began to settle over the building. A few echoes were the last ghostly reminders of battle.
“I wish to address the commanding officer of the unit I am engaging.” The commander’s voice bellowed out toward the second floor balcony. Yes, they were up there. Silence was his only reply at first.
“This is he.” Came a reply
Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack..........
“You are heavily outnumbered, sir.” The commander spoke but found himself distracted. What the hell was that? “I ask you to throw down your arms and surrender. You will not be harmed.”
Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack.........
“You are in United States territory.” The invisible defender spoke again. “You WILL withdraw your forces.”
Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack......
“Son, you are heavily outnumbered,” The commander thought the noise was vaguely familiar as he continued to speak. Suddenly, it stopped. He continued; “you need to surrender now or be destroyed.”
“Helloooo boys,” A woman’s voice spoke coyly from the shadows.
The commander turned his head to the new situation. A few of his men raised their weapons but he waved them off. She was a tall, black woman wearing six inch high heels. Her body English bore raw confidence. It made him pause and observe before making his next move. It then hit him, Jesus; she’s filming us.
“Lady, put that camera down and put it down now.” He pointed a finger at her as his voice issued the command.
“Nope,” She gave a simple reply. “You are on Skype, right now.”
“Skype?” He asked to buy time.
“Yes, Skype link to CBS, Washington.” Molly announced. “Anything that happens next has one hell of an audience.”
“Lady........”
“If you want to come take this camera away from me, you can try.” Molly almost teased him. “Then, everything that happens next between The United States Government and the Republic of West Virginia is on your head.”
The commander paused. Her point was as annoying as it was on target. If Washington was spoiling for a fight with Beauragard this is how it would start. He took a long breath and reminded himself how much he hated those little bastards who reported the news.
“Okay, what’s the next move?” The commander considered playing for time, wait for a mistake.
“I go upstairs and film the people on the other side.” Molly began.
“Why?” He interjected sharply.
“So, there is a record of their faces.” Molly’s voice was cold but the smile was still there, glistening like ice.. “I want to make sure they don’t just disappear when this is over.”
“Okay, you do that.” The commander nodded. He turned toward the balcony. “Is that acceptable to the commander whose forces I am engaging?”
“God damn it, lady.” The commander heard the voice of his opposite number swear. Then finally, an annoyed reply; “Yes, it is.”
“While I’m doing that,” Molly kept the lens on the commander as she began to walk toward a set of stairs. “Could you please call General Beauragard and tell him Molly Hunter sends her kindest regards.”
Shit, the commander heaved a sigh and felt undercurrents passing through his mission that he could neither control nor relate to. He watched the woman walk toward the stairs and turned to Hojo who was on his left in dimly lit surroundings. The commander nodded to the man as Molly reached the top of the stairs.
“C’mon, let’s go break radio silence.”
“Commander.” Hatch called out from the dark.
“Yes?” The commander turned to the voice that was his opposite number.
“She’s your problem, now.”
Click-clack-click-clack-click-clack-click-clack.........
*
“Miss Hunter, I do declare what a pleasure it is to hear your voice.” Back at the commander’s vehicle, General Beauragard’s voice spoke silky smooth from the speakers.
“I am charmed as always, general.” Molly had to smile at the sound of those southern tones. Damn, butter would never melt in that man’s mouth.
“I must say,” his voice was almost playful. “I was not aware you had family business in Fort Knox.”
“We all have secrets, General Beauragard.” She played back. “Just sayin,.....”
“Touche.” His laugh was genuine.
“What are you doing, General?” Molly was suddenly serious. “Why are you here?”
“We can talk about that later.” The General was used to her direct approach. He deflected her easily.
“What about the militia people and the others?” Molly kept going.
“Yes, the others,” The General clearly had a smile on his face as he spoke. Molly could feel a trap being sprung. Damn. “My, my, my, aren’t we running with some interesting company, Miss Hunter.”
“Interesting company?”
“Mr. Hatch,” The General zeroed in. “You are of course aware that’s not his real name.”
“Of course,” Molly nodded her head. Shit, really?
“I knew you were smarter than that.” The General drove the point home. Okay, you got me. Molly sighed while she listened to him continue: “What is a lady of your stature doing hanging around with rogues and black ops people?”
“I was just catching a ride.” Molly tried to sound innocent though she knew he wasn’t buying it. “You promised nothing would happen to them.”
“I give you my word as an officer and a gentlemen that they will be relieved of their weapons and detained briefly until an exchange can be made.” The General’s voice touched upon statesman-like. She knew he loved this.
“…and the militia?”
“They are free to carry on their duties beside my troops.”
Beauragard continued. “They will have to be relieved of their weapons while we are here.”
“Ask them where the infirmary is.” Molly offered, remembering an old story. “I understand you have wounded. I believe they have a nurse on staff.”
“Commander?” General Beauragard inquired.
“Yes sir, we do have wounded, we will ask right away.” The commander answered and then stole a look at Molly. “Thank you, ma’am,”
Molly nodded politely. Maybe it was time to start the ying and yang game on this side as well. “Am I free to visit the other…..” she paused for the right word; “guests?”
“Of course, Miss Hunter.” Beauragard agreed kindly. “Commander, have you had time to make Miss Hunter comfortable?”
“No sir, not yet.”
“Gentlemen, where are our manners?” Beauragard wagged a playful vocal finger at them “We must see to that at once.”
“Yes sir, of course, sir.” The commander was grateful for the infirmary info but he was still on the cold side.
“Ah, Miss Hunter there is one more thing.” The General had more cards to play. “You will be happy to hear that my men have located your lost Louis Vuitton.”
“My lost….” Molly had a feeling of rising dread but played along. “Yes, did you find it?”
“I knew it was lost, I’ve never seen you without it.” The man was clearly enjoying himself. “I instructed my men to be respectful and not touch anything personal on the inside of your bag.”
“Why thank you, General.” Molly’s gratitude was a false, flat line as she listened.
“I did notice you had two blackberries.” The General’s voice took on a serpentine silk to it. “Who gave you the second one?”
“I think you know who gave it to me.” Molly saw no reason to be false. Damn it, the pentagon is now out of the picture.
“I hope you understand, I have to confiscate it,” Beauragard snapped his second, kindly trap shut.
“Well, a girl can’t have everything.” She kept a brave face up as she accepted defeat, for now, anyway.
5 Years After (Book 2.5): Smoke & Mirrors Page 6