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Hell Happened (Book 3): Hell Released

Page 32

by Terry Stenzelbarton


  Lisa had scowled at Russ when he told her the young waif of a soldier would lead the commando team that would reconnoiter the camp, but Russ told her there was no one better trained to lead such a team and no one with the fierce loyalty the woman engendered in her troops. “She might be young, but she is the best person to do this and she is one of the best soldiers I have had the pleasure to work with in 30 years,” Russ told her. “And I’m not just saying that to placate you, dearest. She is intelligent, well-trained and dedicated to her profession like few I have ever worked and served before.”

  Russ looked at the clock on the wall. He saw the minute hand tick up to 1600 hours military time. Eleven more hours until Erica would make contact with Lt. Jimenez’s platoon. If she did, they’d hear a click on the radio for every one of her commandos who returned to the platoon. Ideally, there would be four clicks at 0315 and again at 0330 hours.

  Russ asked for his laptop and Lisa brought it to him with his dinner as the sun was setting on their community. He’d had a late lunch and had gone back to the armory to finish his study of military law and martial law. He wanted to be ready for the prisoners and Smith when they arrived sometime tomorrow. He knew Erica and her team would be slowly moving into position through the afternoon and wouldn’t be calling for help on the radio unless there was a dire emergency.

  Once darkness fell, the team would move closer to the camp and make notes and observe.

  When Lisa brought him dinner, home-made lasagna that tasted as good as it smelled, she also brought him his laptop so he could journal his thoughts and reasoning for relieving Lt. Col. Smith of his command.

  Russ ate and listened to Zach’s radio station. Lisa had left instructions to everyone that Russ was not to be bothered by anything less than the Rapture while the mission was running.

  When dinner was cleared, Lisa took the dishes back to be washed, but returned with a jacket and forced the colonel to take a walk. “You’ve been sitting here or in your office all day. You say you trust the people you’ve sent out, but they trust you to act like you trust them and take care of this community and yourself.

  “You’re going for a walk with me and you’re going to look confident and commanding.”

  A crescent moon was high in the sky and there was sporadic cloud cover. He had no idea what the weather was like where Erica was, but he hoped it was overcast and not raining. He and Lisa walked through the community’s streets, looking at the gardens people had planted and lawns that had been cared for.

  Even during the walk, Lisa could tell the man was lost in his thoughts and concerned with the mission.

  She felt the walk had done him good however, reminding him of all the people he’d helped already and was helping every day with his leadership and experience. There were more than a hundred people living at Lt. Col. Smith’s camp who were not enjoying the freedoms the people in their community enjoyed.

  Lisa knew she might be the “mayor” of this community of survivors, but she knew it was Russ’ leadership and drive that was the real reason it was as successful as it was.

  They got back to the radio room a little before 2300 hours. Lisa put coffee on as Russ did more writing on his laptop. The coffee was brewed and served in an insulated cup just as Russ was finishing up his entry. He saved the document and set the laptop on the desk.

  The two who had met on a golf course after the apocalypse, had later became friends, then lovers, sat in silence. All the words that had needed being said had been said.

  They listened to the overnight show on the radio. Zach’s wife Crystal was their voice in the night, but Russ had turned the volume down. The music she played on the overnight show was a little too hip and upbeat for him tonight, but both he and Lisa wanted to hear something besides the static on the ham radio.

  Sometime after midnight, Lisa fell asleep on the couch. Russ covered her with a blanket and kissed her on the forehead.

  A little after one in the morning, Russ was sitting in his chair with his feet up on the desk. He was resting his eyelids, or so he told himself, thinking about the mission.

  He was surprised when Lisa touched him on his shoulder shortly after 0500 hours.

  “Damn,” he said. “I slept through the 3 a.m. contact by Bare. I wonder how her team did. Dammit all to hell,” he said as he stood and cracked his back and stretched.

  “Don’t sweat it, Russ,” Lisa said as she enveloped his chest with her arms. “I heard the 0315 call and there were three clicks. I waited until 0330 to wake you and tell you one of our commandos was MIA, but the 0330 contact was clearly four clicks. I guess one of them was late, but since everyone was accounted for, I decided to let you sleep.”

  Russ kissed the woman and said “You’re such a good woman. I’m surprised you’re not married to some handsome man who showers you with diamonds.”

  “Is that an offer, Col. Hammond?” she asked.

  Just as he was about to answer, he heard a call on the ham radio.

  “Sgt. Bare calling Col. Hammond,” the voice from the radio said. “Col. Hammond this is Sgt. Erica Bare, do you copy, over?”

  Smiles reached both his and Lisa’ face as he reached for the microphone.

  “We’re here, Erica! It’s good to hear your voice!”

  Russ could hear the smile even through the radio as Erica called him back on the status of the mission.

  “Lt. Jimenez has Lt. Col. Smith in custody and we have secured the base, over.”

  “That’s great to hear, sergeant. Were there any injuries?”

  “Not to any of our people, colonel. But there’s a soldier here whose jaw got broken when he refused to shut up.”

  Russ would hear the story later in the day when the platoon of soldiers pulled back into the community with 72 survivors in tow who wanted to start a new life with their rescuers.

  Erica and her commandos had watched the camp from their separate positions and each had returned to the platoon’s bivouac area at 0300 hours with their report. One of the soldiers had to wait out one of the sentries at the camp who had decided to walk into the man’s area. The commando used a branch near him to make it sound like animals were in the bush and the man backed away but kept his rifle at the ready. He didn’t get back to camp until almost 0320 hours.

  The plan was to have each of the six observation posts, OPs, taken over by Lt. Jimenez’s platoon at the exact same time. Most of the defenders in the OPs were sleeping or would not be paying close attention to their field of fire at five o’clock in the morning. Erica and her team had moved stealthily to gather their intelligence and avoided being seen. They knew which directions the invader could use to close on the OPs with the least chance of detection.

  Erica and the other commandos drew a layout of the camp in the dirt and the entire platoon studied it and made suggestion and comments. The platoon had 45 minutes before they had to depart, so the commandos got a bite to eat.

  At precisely 0500 hours, all six OPs were infiltrated by Jimenez’s platoon and one of Erica’s team. Not a shot was fired, but the weapons the invading soldiers had aimed at the defenders, most of whom were sleeping, reading or listening to music on portable players, were locked and loaded in case of resistance.

  Erica and one of her commandos were tasked with taking the main gate guard post, where four men were on duty, and the sergeant who was in charge started to scream out a warning to others. Erica butt stroked him with her rifle before he could bark any orders even as he was reaching for his holstered sidearm.

  Lt. Jimenez and four of his platoon secured Lt. Col. Smith, who had been sleeping with his “wife.” The lieutenant was firm, respectful and polite, but the lieutenant colonel was having none of it and started berating the young officer.

  Smith finally shut up when his “wife,” an attractive young woman who looked about 15 years younger than Smith, said, “Why don’t you just shut up you piece of shit. If they hadn’t come and got you, there’re half a dozen men outside who would have gladly shot
your pompous ass if I asked them to.”

  From there it was just a mop up operation and a return to the base with everyone who wanted to join them.

  When the convoy of 38 Army and civilian cars and trucks pulled in to the community at Ft. Benjamin Harrison, nearly everyone was gathered around the gates waving American, Canadian and Mexican flags. Some even had signs welcoming the soldiers home.

  Russ and Lisa were standing by the gates and Erica was driving the first vehicle with Lt. Jimenez riding shotgun. They stopped and allowed the rest of the convoy to enter the housing community. Erica got out and walked up to Col. Hammond and saluted him. Jimenez followed a moment later. He indicated that Lt. Col. Smith was in the back seat in handcuffs and guarded by one of Erica’s commandos.

  Russ and Lisa both threw decorum to the wind and hugged the young sergeant and congratulated her on a job well done. There were tears in her eyes, just as there were in Lisa’s.

  “Welcome home, soldier,” Russ whispered into her ear. “Thank God, you’re home.”

  Aftermath

  “Get some respect for yourself,” the teenaged girl said to the woman Cheryl, who was one of the prisoners Capt. Eldred had been tasked to take back to Ft. Benjamin Harrison. The teenager slugged the woman in the mouth, knocking her to the ground. “Act like a woman, not like a whore.” The soldiers loading the prisoners onto Fred’s bus and securing them to their seats applauded the young lady. Myles assumed there was a history between the two.

  Eldred met Jerry and Kellie Saunders and others from the farm and accepted their written statements about what had transpired. They would be used as evidence at the prisoners’ military trial. Tony, the radio man at the farm came out to let him know Smith had been relieved of duty and there were no injuries to their friends.

  Eldred was glad to hear the news but was also anxious to get back home to his new bride. His group had their vehicles and stomachs refueled and got back on the road with little delay. Myles predicted a 10 to 12 hour drive back to base, which meant he’d be sleeping with DeeDee that night if they didn’t run into any problems.

  Doug took the lead again and Fred was in the middle with the school bus and the prisoners. Myles was driving his own HUMVEE with Barry riding shotgun. They were not anticipating any issues and Seaman Waters would help watch over the prisoners on the bus along with one of the men from the Saunders farm who was coming to join the army.

  The drive was long, but at 77 miles per hour, the top speed of the bus, the miles were being eaten up quickly.

  The attack on the convoy came so quickly, Capt. Eldred didn’t register that his HUMVEE was being shot at until the motor coughed and started belching smoke. As soon as he realized they were under attack, he remembered this was the general area in which they had been attacked the previous afternoon.

  He woke up Barry by the simple expedient of hitting the young man in the shoulder. Barry woke with a start and Eldred ordered him to the machine gun and to return fire even as he was reaching for the microphone for the radio.

  “Ambush!” he told the others in the front vehicles. “Don’t stop for anything and that’s an order!” Myles’ truck was slowing as the motor died and he was looking for someplace to pull off the highway. Barry was loading the machine gun as fast as he could when Myles heard more gunfire.

  The bus Fred was driving took several hits in the tires and started skidding out of control. Myles saw the brake lights of Doug’s HUMVEE come on and he screamed into the microphone. “Get your ass home, Doug, and that is a direct order! You can’t do anything back here.” Eldred had kept the convoy’s three vehicles about 200 yards apart in case there was trouble on the highway, the others would have time to react and avoid the problem. He hadn’t anticipated an ambush after hearing that Lt. Col. Smith had been relieved of his post.

  It was a mistake and Myles knew it was a bad one.

  The bus in front of Eldred careened left into a guardrail as Fred struggled for control. The man couldn’t keep the bus from rolling over the rail and Fred died with six of the prisoners and two of the soldiers as the bus rolled onto its roof. The other soldiers aboard were knocked around but still alive.

  More gunfire stitched across Eldred’s HUMVEE and Barry screamed and fell into the back seat, bleeding from several holes in his chest and neck. Myles had the truck almost stopped when the bullet which ended his life pierced his window and entered his skull just above his left ear. He never heard it kill him and he didn’t have time to think of DeeDee before leaving this life.

  Doug finally pulled over when he was more than a mile away from the ambush location. He pulled out his binoculars and saw the seven men who had ambushed the convoy were approaching the bus and Capt. Eldred’s HUMVEE. They were in Army uniforms. They opened the door to Eldred’s truck and the man fell out of the truck as far as the seatbelt would let his dead body. One of the ambushers used a knife to cut the belt and Eldred’s body fell to the ground.

  Some of the others helped four of the prisoners who had survived the crash of the bus out of the wreck and onto the highway. He recognized one as the woman who had caused a lot of the problems at the farm because she still had shackles on her legs. “That bitch survived!” Doug said to himself.

  He watched them for a few minutes and they pulled one of soldiers Myles had personally chosen to ride herd on the bus with the prisoners out of the wrecked bus. The man they pulled free was dragged onto the roadway. When he sat up one of the men shot him in cold blood.

  The young man from the farm who had planned on joining the army was also pulled from the wrecked bus. Doug couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead, but he knew the man didn’t survive the gunshots the men who attacked the convoy put into his body.

  “Son of a bitch,” Doug said and got back in his HUMVEE, tears running down his face. He had to go home and give Col. Hammond the news of who had escaped.

  Doug would also have to tell DeeDee her new husband was dead.

  Don’t miss the next book in the Hell Happened Series!

  Hell Reborn

  Coming soon!

  About the Authors

  Terry Stenzelbarton is the author of five novels. He spent 16 years in the military as a photojournalist, newspaper editor, combat engineer and military policeman.

  As a civilian, he has been a sports editor, photographer, traveling salesman, carpenter, computer expert, grave digger and Director of Marketing & Advertising, Information Technology and Software.

  Jordan Stenzelbarton is the co-author of three novels. He’s an avid gamer, tennis player, reader and volunteer for his church.

  Want more Zombie and supernatural action!

  Check out these other White Feather Press titles!

  Uprising USA

  Uprising Italia

  Uprising UK

  Blood and Tequila

  Blood on the Mississippi

  Table of Contents

  Copyright 2013, Terry and Jordan Stenzelbarton

  Hell Released

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the write...

  Preface

  Chapter 1C

  Chapter 2S

  Chapter 3C

  Chapter 4C

  Chapter 5“D

  Chapter 6C

  Aftermath“G

  Don’t miss the next book in the Hell Happened Series!Hell Reborn

  About the Authors

  Want more Zombie and supernatural action!

 

 

 

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