Divided We Fall (Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Book 6)

by W. J. Lundy

  At the same time the gunman ahead fell silent, they heard the eruption of fire to the rear. Blinded by the crest of the hill behind him, Brad couldn’t see the vehicles they’d left on the other side. The sound of an AT4 anti-tank rocket screeched and echoed with the crack a large explosion. An M2 machine gun thumped as small arms joined the chaos. Black smoke boiled over the hill; he knew the Bradley, and possibly the LAV, took a hit and was dead or disabled by the looks of the oily, rolling smoke.

  Brad lifted his head off the target building; the small patrol was in disarray and the three remaining members were showing fear. On the verge of panic, the soldier Brad spoke to earlier screamed, “What do we do?”

  Brooks leapt to his feet where he’d been concealed in tall grass; he quickly took charge and ordered the SAW gunner to keep his weapon pointed and covering the front.

  “Anything moves, kill it,” Brooks said.

  Brooks grabbed another man and laid him in position near the gunner. He moved ahead and searched the terrain; his eyes locking on Brad, he pointed and then waved an arm to the hilltop. Brad rushed to his feet and met with Brooks, already at a slow jog moving toward the hill. He pointed and grabbed the third soldier, ordering him to follow. As Brad approached the hilltop, the gunfire decreased and was quickly replaced by the moans of the infected.

  Brooks dropped to his belly; the others joining him on the ground, they low crawled forward to the top of the hill. Looking over to the far side, their worst fears were realized. The HEMMET, LAV, and Bradley were engulfed in flames, men lay dead in the wire, and others were running on the road, back in the direction of the base. From the forest, a horde of Primals appeared out of the shadows, screaming as they charged at the disabled vehicles, swarming into the wire and pushing their way through to the down and wounded soldiers not able to flee.

  “This ain’t right,” the soldier muttered. “Who is attacking us?”

  Brooks pushed back into the cover of the hill, ignoring the man, and turned to Brad. “Get these guys back—this is a fight we can’t win.”

  “Back to where?” Brad asked.

  “Into the town, get them into cover. I’ll join you soon; I need to recon ahead and see what’s going on here.”

  Brad looked at him confused. “What else is there to see?”

  “Primals didn’t fire those rockets and kill those vehicles. I want to see who did this—now find these guys some cover,” Brooks said.

  Brad attempted to argue, but could see by Brooks’ closed expression that the order was not up for discussion. He turned and looked into the scared face of the man to his right. Brad scooted back on all fours, and then rose to his knee. He looked at the soldier. The man stared at the ground absently.

  Brad looked at the man’s chest; his armor concealed his nametape. “What’s your name, soldier?” Brad asked.

  He answered without looking up. “Roberts,” he said.

  “Listen up, Roberts; we’re moving back down the hill. I need you to get your shit together, you hear me?”

  The soldier raised his head to look Brad in the eye. “Okay, Sergeant; I hear ya.”

  “Good, we need to move. Let’s get the others.”

  Brad stood, then reached down and pulled the soldier to his feet. He glanced back at Brooks, who was still lying at the top of the hill, hunched over his rifle. Brad shook his head then guided the soldier ahead of him; together they took off for the bottom of the hill to regroup with the others. “Earlier, you said you’ve been through this town before, right?” Brad asked.

  “Yeah, a few times.”

  “Good; you know a place we can hide in? Something we can defend?”

  “I know a place,” he answered.

  Brad stopped just short of the others and quickly got them on their feet. A short stocky kid with the word Axe written on his helmet carried the squad automatic weapon. The other, a lanky soldier with stubble on his chin cradled an M203, his vest nearly filled with 40mm grenades. Brad began to speak when he heard the loud roar of an infected moan. The sounds grew louder on the far side of the hill.

  Brad pointed ahead to the small village. “Let’s move; Roberts has point.”

  “Where we going?” Axe asked. “What about the others?”

  Roberts shook his head and stepped off. “They’re all dead.”

  Brad put out a hand and moved the two men out, and then stepped off next to them. “Come on, pick up the pace; we need to get out of the open.”

  As if someone was listening, a small group of three Primals broke between the buildings; still over a hundred meters ahead, they moved quickly in Brad’s direction, although they didn’t see the soldiers. Roberts dropped to the prone position—the others followed his movement—then raised his rifle but paused before firing.

  “What do we do, Sergeant?” Roberts asked.

  Brad knew if they fired, the mob on the other side of the hill would be on them. “Any of you have cans?”

  The men shook their heads and looked at him absently.

  “Shit, of course not,” Brad said. He reached into his hip pouch and retrieved his suppressor then screwed the can to the end of his M4 barrel. He did not have subsonic ammo so he was still going to make some noise.

  “You all hold your fire and be ready to run,” Brad said.

  He raised his rifle up and aimed center mass at the first jogging Primal and waited for another to move in directly behind it. Brad pulled the trigger smoothly and felt the rifle react; the report from the rifle was muffled, although the supersonic round cracked as it moved down range. Brad lost the sight picture; he lifted his eye away from the optics and watched as the lead runner tumbled forward. Then the second runner stumbled and staggered, the round having successfully passed through the first and into the second. Brad scanned left, finding the third Primal that continued up the hill and not seeming to care about the rest of its party. Brad locked onto it and fired again, watching the round impact it just below the collarbone. The second Primal was still stumbling forward; Brad again aimed center mass and pulled the trigger, watching it crumple to the ground.

  He scanned left and right, quickly confirming all three on the ground. “Move, move, move. Roberts, get us off this road and into the trees,” Brad said.

  The others were already running when Brad jumped to his feet and jogged ahead to join them. Roberts led the group off the road and into the tree line, where they continued jogging ahead until they were deep into the cover of the woods. Roberts stopped next to a tree, dropping low and gasping for air; the others fell in beside him.

  “What the hell are we doing, Sergeant?” Axe asked.

  Brad knelt next to him and took a drink from his canteen. “We just need to find a place to hole up, Axe,” Brad said. Loud explosions echoed in the distance, thunderous booms following a cadence of explosions.

  “Damn, that’s 105 from the camp!” Roberts exclaimed. “What the hell are they shooting artillery at?”

  Brad shook his head and put the cap back on his canteen. “I don’t know, but we’re sure as hell going to make sure we live to find out,” Brad said. “Roberts, find me a hideout.”

  Chapter 11

  The sounds of battle intensified, the noise echoing in from all directions. Heavy hanging smoke drifted over the trees and covered the grounds. Shane pushed ahead, keeping the girls close behind him; he needed to create distance on the last contact with the men in black, but also needed to get into cover. He made a straight line back to his small apartment, where they could regroup, gather supplies, and decide what action to take next.

  Shane moved to the end of a long block building that sat next to his own, tall neglected bushes lined the foundation of the structure. He needed to rest; the pain from his partially healed gunshot wound was causing him to sweat and lose focus. Shane got close to the building, pressing his right shoulder against overgrown vegetation. He motioned to Ella with his left arm down and let her tuck in behind him while he kept his rifle aimed forward and constantly searched
. Chelsea moved up next to him, kneeled, and used her own rifle to cover the rear approach. Shane turned and saw she had a suppressor attached to the end of her rifle.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  Shane kept his eyes on the long apartment building, slowly scanning along the row of lower apartments before checking the upper level. It appeared empty; nobody was moving in the area, even though more gunfire echoed nearby, and he thought he heard the sound of an explosion from Chelsea’s house. The sounds of Primal moans carried along in the wind; they sounded close—possibly inside the fences. The combat was surrounding them.

  “We need to dig in; I was thinking my place.”

  “Shane, you’re bleeding!” she said pointing.

  Shane dropped his hand down to his thigh. When he pulled it away, he saw an oily stain on his tan leather glove from the blood that ran from the chest wound. It wasn't the first time he had broken it open; he must have done it yet again.

  “It’s fine. I just need to change the bandage. I probably got it to bleeding by crawling around on the ground back there,” he said. “Listen, I’m going to run ahead and get the door open. When I signal, bring Ella up.”

  Chelsea turned her head. “No, we go together; you’re hurt.”

  “Dammit, I said I’m fine,” Shane grunted.

  Chelsea got to her feet and stepped ahead. “Just hold onto Ella. Stay behind and cover me; I’ll call you when it’s clear.”

  Not waiting for a response, she moved in front of him, and Shane watched as she quickly slipped into the smoky mist. He turned and looked at Ella when she grabbed his elbow and squeezed his arm. After taking her into the camp, where there was safety and protection, he hated forcing her to return to the run-and-hide past they had recently escaped. She was just becoming normal again. Under Chelsea’s care, she was beginning to play and even laugh on occasion. Shane forced a smile to relax her, and she put her head against his arm as he coerced his legs back into motion. He then rose and felt the blood drain from his head as he stood quickly. Chelsea was correct in taking point; he wasn’t back to 100 percent. There was no way he could get them out of this alone.

  He could see that Chelsea had reached his apartment door. She dropped down with her back to the wall, looked back at him, and then waved him forward before turning to cover the front. Shane moved Ella to his other side and stepped off in Chelsea’s direction. When he saw Chelsea lean back against the wall as her rifle came up, Shane turned hard, forcing Ella into the grass behind him as he brought up his own weapon and looked into the obscured void where Chelsea aimed.

  Two figures broke through the smoke. Shane took aim on the second, bringing his thumb to the selector switch of his rifle before hearing Chelsea whistle at him. He looked back at her and saw her waving her hand before she shot him a thumbs up. Shane looked back into the void while the two men came closer, and he recognized the SEAL team chief and the Marine, Villegas. Shane exhaled and helped Ella back to her feet. He rushed forward, joining the men in front of the building. Shane ignored their greetings while he quickly opened the door and rushed Ella inside. The rest followed him in and secured the door behind them.

  Chelsea moved in and drew the blinds before turning. “Chief, what’s going on?” she asked.

  Chief Sean Rogers moved across the room to the corner, dressed head to toe in multicam. He crouched down and lifted the corner of the blinds so that he could see out. The Marine, Joey Villegas, pressed his back against the wall near the door, keeping watch through a tiny window at its top. Joey let his weapon rest at the low ready. Sean, seeing that Joey was in position, let go of the blinds.

  “We’re under attack, the COP has been hit on all sides, and our patrols outside the wire have been ambushed. I bumped into Joey at the barracks. Brad and Brooks are both missing; we thought they might have come looking for you.”

  Shane looked away from them and pulled his shirt over his head. He then moved into the back of the room, facing a small countertop and sink where he kept a jug of bathing water. He looked in the mirror; as he suspected, the bandage had pulled away from the wound, the scabs torn and bleeding. He grabbed and peeled away the bandage before using a gauze pad to clean the wound. He looked over his shoulder at Sean. “I saw some guys, the ones in black, same as back in South Carolina.”

  Sean’s chin lifted, not attempting to hide the shock in his voice. “Where?” Sean asked.

  “They fired on a vehicle in front of Chelsea’s,” Shane said. “Caught them sneaking up through the trees behind her place.”

  “Did they see you?”

  Shane clenched his teeth as he used an alcohol swab to wipe around the outsides of the wound then dabbed it with an antibiotic cream. “No, I don’t think so, but it sounded like they did more shooting after we left.”

  Chelsea helped Ella onto the bed that sat in the center of the room. “Do you think they are here for—?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Sean said. “They hit the walls and blew a big ass hole in both fences. Many Primals got in; the attacks pulled most of the troops to the outer perimeter. Makes sense now… the bad guys are trying to get everything away from her.”

  Joey kept his eyes on the door’s small window. “Explains why it’s turned into a ghost town out there.”

  Shane finished applying a new bandage and put on a clean shirt. “I saw trucks loaded for war headed west; maybe Brad and Brooks went with them. Most of the officers around here were bugging out in a hurry. One of the people I bumped into out front said there were troops in contact outside the wire. I was headed back to get the girls when I spotted that group in the woods. I was planning to get us toward HQ.”

  Thinking to himself, Sean exhaled loudly, then turned back to the window and peeked out. “It’s a solid plan, we need to break out of this void and get ourselves surrounded by friendlies. The COP is liable to cut this area off and clear it later by sector. Depending on how may infected got in, we could be cut off for days in here.”

  Shane opened a dresser drawer and removed a tactical vest with loaded magazine pouches positioned across the front and sides. He undid the Velcro and slid the vest over his head.

  “I see you’re adjusting to civilian life,” Sean said, looking at the overloaded gear.

  Shane shrugged as he pulled two frag grenades from a sock drawer and added them to his kit. “Better safe than sorry, right? Chief, I’m ready to go when you are; I’ll carry Ella.”

  Chief looked at him, frowning. “Nahh, I don’t think so. You’re looking pretty busted up.”

  “Now wait a min—” Shane began to protest before suddenly being interrupted by Chelsea.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got her. If I get tired, I’ll switch off. Can we please just get the hell out of here?” Chelsea said.

  Sean crossed the room and stopped near Joey, who still had his eye to the window. “How’s it looking?” he asked.

  “All clear, but the smoke is getting heavy; if we’re going to move, we should make it quick,” Joey said.

  Chapter 12

  “A hundred and twenty-six! What did you do, bring the entire city? You know I can’t allow them all into the mountain,” General Reynolds said, his voice sounding tiny over the phone.

  Cloud sat at the front of the aircraft, looking back into the fuselage. The aircraft was filled with families and soldiers. Scared and weary, faces covered with filth and dust. Mothers holding children—most likely their first time ever on a flight—while Afghan men sat in groups, looking at Cloud suspiciously. He couldn’t blame them; even the US soldiers in their party had their reasons not to trust him. Coming out of nowhere to retrieve them after going months with no contact, he would have no excuse if they questioned him on it.

  The line cracked and buzzed in his ear, ending his trance. “Sir, I didn’t have many options; the men on the ground refused to leave the civilians behind.”

  “Well, you should have left them.”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s not worth arguing ab
out. We no longer need them; find a remote spot. I need you to drop them and R.T.B.”

  Cloud’s jaw clenched and his brow tightened in disbelief. “But, sir… what about the mission… the exchange?”

  “Colonel, there’s been a breakthrough with Aziz. We’ve already made other arrangements. The exchange is no longer necessary; now un-ass that excess cargo and return to base.”

  “But, sir, I have them all on board now… women and children… our soldiers; I can deliver them,” Cloud said.

  “Colonel, you have your orders; clean up your mess and return to base. I will have a new flight plan sent to the cockpit; we are showing an open airfield on your current route. If the soldiers want to stay on board, that is approved. If not, land and leave them with the rest. I’ll brief you on the changes when you get back.”

  Cloud grew agitated, his blood beginning to boil; why travel all this way, give hope to, and now abandon these people? The general had lost his humanity; after this, there would be no bargaining to recover his family. All the months of Cloud’s frustration were coming to the top, blurring his judgment; he was tired and ready to quit. He had done everything he was asked to, but he could not do this. “You just expect me to leave them? Sir, how am I—?”

  His voice crackling in the headset, the general shouted, “I don’t care what you have to do. Dammit, James, I’m trying to make this an easy decision for you. If you can’t handle it, put me through to the recovery team leader and I’ll have him open the ramp and run them out!”

  Cloud reached up and disconnected the call. The airman moved across the aisle and retrieved the headset. “Cut the link; I won’t need it any longer,” Cloud said.