“Fucking eh,” Budd finished.
A logging site had been cleared out just like before. The Rangers were able to spot the site through the loud noise of the falling trees echoing through the valley and the site of trees being cleared out as they came closer to the site. The crew left and the Rangers set up shop just like before.
“It’s insulting how dumb they think we are” Budd added as he found his spot by the camp site.
“We’re not setting up shop,” Dallas said.
“Wait, it’s my turn to take the pop shot.”
“The windows are bulletproof.” Kelly pointed out, referring to their last mission.
“I know that,” Budd said. “It’s like banging a girl on birth control. Throw out a few rounds, but they aren’t going to do anything. Doesn’t mean I didn’t get off.”
“Fine,” Dallas answered. “You get to stay and be the shooter. You know they are going to level this spot once the shit goes down?”
“I know,” Budd said with a wide grin on his face.
Budd dug his foxhole and made his position comfortable. The rest of the men set up their camps a few hundred yards away. Once the mortars started to fall they would know what to do next.
Budd was awakened by the sound of a truck motor climbing the mountain. He focused on his rifle and made sure a round was in the chamber. The smoke of the diesel exhaust could be seen ascending the tree line before the truck. The window had been replaced on the passenger side where Kelly had tried to shoot the driver. Budd didn’t want to waste the few rounds he would be able to shoot. So, just like his last girlfriend, he tried to find creative places to put them. The side wall of the tire looked interesting and he flicked the safety off.
He fired a round and with a soft puff of air the tire popped, lowering the side of the truck about a foot. The driver started to panic.
From the back of the truck soldiers began to unload and looked around the forest for the shooter, for Budd.
“Oh Shit,” Budd said, realizing things were not going as planned. The driver of the truck started to shift into gear and was about to leave the soldiers behind. One of the soldiers started to panic and slapped the side of the truck as it turned around and moved towards the dirt road. Budd found his shot and fired on the soldier. Brain, blood, and bone splattered on the windshield of the truck as the driver screamed from the inside. Budd wished he could have heard it. The downside of bulletproof items is that they are soundproof as well.
The soldiers started to randomly shoot into the forest at various directions. Budd was happy to see them wasting valuable ammo. One of the soldiers started to come dangerously close to Budd and a second later he regretted taking the man down. The rest of the soldiers noticed their downed comrade and shifted their aim into Budd’s direction.
Ducking into the foxhole Budd waited for the men to reload. One of the soldiers started hollering to the rest, fumbling to remove the empty magazine. Budd moved his head up a few inches and took the man in his site. One well-placed round dropped the man, then a second round for another man. Budd counted in his head.
Okay that’s three down. No four, Budd corrected himself. Two left? I fucking hate math. The dirt around his foxhole was starting to pop up as 7.62 bullets flew his direction. Time to go. Budd ran to the nearest tree and one of the soldiers yelled after seeing him. Both men started to shoot. Budd was safely behind the tree when the bullets came close.
Waiting for the click of switching magazine Budd moved around the tree and shot the first soldier then the second.
“Well, that ain’t nothing.”
From above the trees the humming sound of a model airplane caught his attention.
“What the hell is that?” Budd asked as he continued to look up. From an opening in the tree line he saw a drone with four propellers flying above. A camera was mounted on the bottom and at that moment Budd knew they were looking at him.
From the camp at the bottom of the trail, Choi watched the attack taking place on the logging site. The driver of the truck had panicked and left the soldiers behind. Choi didn’t consider that to be a bad thing, since he needed to know how well equipped the enemy was. One after another the soldiers dropped to the ground and Choi grew irritated.
“Move in closer,” he ordered the drone operator.
The drone descended to the tree line and moved towards an opening. In a small clearing a man covered in pine branches and moss stood with a rifle. The man was barely visible, blending in with the ground.
“Get a close up of that man,” Choi directed. “I want to know who this is.”
The camera moved and the man raised his rifle, pointing it at the drone. The operator shifted the drone as a flash appeared at the end of the barrel. The operator moved the drone above a tree and out of the line of sight.
Choi was aggravated and shoved the operator out of the way. Choi took the controls and moved the drone down below the tree line, hovering among the branches and tree trunks.
“Sir,” the operator tried to warn him.
“Shut up,” Choi answered, maneuvering the drone through the forest looking for the attacker. “Send the rest of the men up. We know they are still there.”
Budd ran as soon as the drone disappeared. He was so disappointed that he missed the drone. It wasn’t like shooting down the drones that the Feds used while looking for his family’s marijuana fields back home. Back then he would get the 12 gauge out and pop off some turkey or duck steel shot, taking care of the problem. The sound of the drone was closer this time. Stopping behind a tree, Budd waited. The buzzing noise grew louder and he stood still as the drone passed by a few feet away at head level. Budd pulled his pistol from its holster and watched as the drone slowly turned around, looking for him. As the drone looked directly at him Budd raised the pistol and fired one round into the camera. The drone dropped from the damage to the battery pack and laid lifeless in the leaves.
“Good night,” Budd said holstering his pistol.
Moving through the woods Budd lost track of how far back the men had set up a defensive perimeter. On the trunk of a tree Budd saw a fresh cut and looked down to see a tripwire ready to kill whoever stepped on it.
A whistle was heard and Budd turned to see Kelly waving him over.
Budd avoided the tripwire and hid behind the fallen tree trunk Kelly was hiding behind.
“What are we looking at?” Kelly asked.
“Those fuckers are using drones,” Budd said. “I feel like I’m back home.”
“I don’t want to know what that means,” Clive added.
In the distance more trucks could be heard. The second wave of the attack was about to happen.
“I see they aren’t using mortars this time,” Dallas said, trying to adjust the plan in his head. At the moment all of his men were with him including four men who had been receiving training at the camp. Mark, Billy, Scott, and John had all escaped from the prison camp in Seattle. Like many men that lived in the city before the collapse these men had little or no skills for surviving in the wilderness. They were taken under the wing of people like Ben and Kelly who wanted to make sure they would be useful if they were going to stick around.
The brakes of the trucks squealed to a stop and the clanking of tailgates dropping had the Rangers’ attention. Everyone sat still in anticipation for the next wave of the attack. Sweat dripped off Clive’s nose as he looked through the forest.
“Steady,” Dallas said softly waiting for the signs of an approaching group. The sound of a stick snapping turned heads, followed by the click of the safety on Dallas’ M14. Weapons were raised and leveled at the forest floor. The sound of Chinese words floated through the air at a whisper. A second later the first soldier appeared. Kelly sighted him in and pulled the trigger after the soldier looked at him in recognition.
A split second later the crack of gunfire filled the forest and men hollered and yelled on both sides. In the chaos and panic of the moment both sides sounded the same as men ducked f
or cover. Wood splintered from the trees leaving a thin layer of wood dust on the forest floor. The thinner trees didn’t function well as cover, instead they were concealment with the .308 and 7.62x 39 rounds flying easily through younger tree trunks. The Rangers worked at holding their position. In fear that the Chinese might try to flank the line, Dallas ordered the men to retreat fifty yards to their next spot. Half of the men moved back while Dallas, Clive, and Ben continued to fire into the forest.
Once the men behind them could cover their retreat the three men hauled ass to the new position.
Seeing the Americans retreated filled the egos of the Chinese soldiers. Their confidence was high and they wanted to move in for the kill. The soldiers rushed in and didn’t notice the tripwire for the Claymore mine that had been set up behind the moss of a tree. The BBs exploded out into the open area hitting four of the soldiers and sending the limbs of the closest man into the air. The rest of the soldiers stopped in their tracks and looked around to make sure they weren’t about to blow themselves up.
Hearing the blast, Dallas and the rest of the men knew what had happened. Kelly was already flipping the cover off of the switch for the two Claymores still left in their former holdout. Dallas nodded and Kelly flipped the switch.
Six more men lay on the forest floor, their bodies torn apart by the Claymore mines left behind by the Americans.
Seeing their numbers quickly dwindling, the Chinese looked at one another and started their retreat back to the trucks.
At the command post Choi listens to the radio traffic of the soldiers on the mountain. The screams and shock of the men leave everyone around him glad they weren’t sent up there. Choi’s face grew irritated, knowing that he was losing the battle. He thought he finally had these bastards and yet it appeared the fight was only starting.
“What are your orders?” one of the men asked, listening to the radio traffic.
“Radio the Liaoning, tell them I want a strike on that position.” Choi started. “Give them the coordinates and tell them to bring whatever they have available. These bastards are not walking away from this.”
The Liaoning was the closest Aircraft carrier off the shore of Washington state. The purpose was to maintain the control of the air while the land forces moved into the country.
“What about the men that are up there?” the man asked.
Choi picked up a radio and tossed it on the desk.
“You hear them?” Choi asked. “Does it sound like they are coming back? Order the strike.”
The sporadic gunfire was in the distance now. The Rangers knew that the Chinese were on the run, too afraid to venture any further into the forest after them. The hollers and screams of injured men could be heard in the distance, left behind by their comrades in a desperate attempt to save their own lives.
Clive climbed over the fallen tree trunk that was used as cover and moved out towards the Chinese that were left behind.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Budd asked Dallas.
“Who knows?” Dallas climbed over the trunk and following behind his friend. “Clive, what the hell you doing?”
Clive ignored him and walked up to one of the fallen soldiers. The man’s leg was missing, torn off by the Claymore mine. The man was incoherent and it took a minute for him to realize that the people standing over him were not his men. The fallen soldier started to panic, not knowing what was going to happen next. He searched around for his weapon, speaking to himself in Mandarin.
“What are we doing here?” Dallas asked.
Clive started to search the soldier, removing ammo pouches, two grenades and a radio that was still broadcasting the men back at the logging site.
“Intel,” Clive said showing the radio. “Have the rest of the men take any weapons and ammo they find.”
The rest of the group joined them and they had the bodies stripped of gear in two minutes. They retrieved ten AK-47s and thirty magazines of ammo, plus a dozen grenades. Things were looking good.
As they moved back to their former position the radio blared. Somebody was in a panic and it didn’t sound like the soldiers at the logging site. Orders were being given, or maybe it was information. The voice stopped and then there was a reply that sounded like a question. The voice returned and repeated some of the same words that were unknown to the Rangers. The soldier came back on the radio screaming at the person who was talking.
“It is times like this I wish I would have taken Chinese in high school,” Kelly said.
“You’re a chink,” Budd replied. “You don’t know what they’re saying?”
“I’m Korean, dick bag,” Kelly replied. “My people hate the fucking Chinese.”
“Let’s move,” Dallas said picking up his newfound toys and leaving the injured soldiers on the ground.
The Rangers moved past their previous position and along the side of the mountain. They would eventually backtrack to make sure they weren’t being followed to their camp.
A few minutes later a whistling sound came from the sky. Different from the sound of mortars, this was a jet of some kind. This sound had not been heard since the day the planes fell from the sky.
“Move,” Dallas said.
“What is that?” Budd asked while looking up at the sky.
Choi was receiving radio transmissions from the MiG jet flying overhead. The single pilot triangle-shaped jet circled overhead, looking at the mountain it was about to attack.
“What side of the mountain do you want me to hit?” the pilot asked. The coordinates he was given were at the peak of the mountain. The information was not specific at all.
“Hit the damn mountain,” Choi answered.
“I have two missiles and two guns,” the pilot explained. “I can strafe the mountain and hit two spots, but that’s it.”
“The southern side.” Choi answered. “Then work to the west from the logging site. After you run out of ammo throw yourself into it.”
The pilot didn’t respond.
The jet circled around one more time and descended for a run. The first rocket propelled off the wing and dove towards the mountain. The projectile hit dead center of the logging site where he was instructed. The jet banked right and circled around for the second run. This time the pilot aimed for the western side of the logging site. From this angle he could see the road that lead to the logging site. The mission didn’t feel right. He hated taking orders from officials that were not thinking clearly. The second rocket fired into the blind target of trees that weren’t hurting anybody. What did he care? He hadn’t fired anything before except in a simulator. Jets had been banned from use except for extreme circumstances due to the fear of being shot down. If the Americans were going to fight back the Chinese didn’t want any news being released about losing a jet.
After the second rocket was fired the MiG swung around for strafing runs along the side of the mountain. This wasn’t a bad trade from the card game he was playing on the ship. Now he could go back to the carrier and brag about his mission with the other pilots.
The two blasts the men heard were far out of range and led them to believe they were safe from the attack from the jet. Budd still could not take his eyes off the enemy in the sky. The jet circled around and out of site after the second rocket was fired.
“Why do I get the feeling it’s not done?” Budd said.
“Just keep moving.” Dallas replied mid jog.
The four new recruits were panting and breathing hard from the added weight.
“When do we stop?” one of them asked.
“We don’t” Dallas said.
“You stop when you’re dead,” Clive added.
The group started to move again, but Budd stood still. A small dot was in the sky. The longer he looked the larger it became and he realized it was flying towards them. Flashes could be seen by the nose of the Jet and exploding wood and dirt could be heard less than a hundred yards away.
“Cover!” Budd screamed, diving behind the nearest rock he
could see. The rest of the men ran. One jumped off the side of the trail, falling down several feet of steep mountain ridge. Dallas dove against the side of the mountain pressing his body against the earth. Clive continued to run. In his mind, to stop was to die. He couldn’t run fast enough. The bullets created a straight line behind him and eventually he was in the way. Two 37mm bullets tore through Clive’s body in mid run. Dropping face first into the dirt, his body slid using the momentum from the mad dash for safety.
Dallas didn’t realize he was screaming when everything happened. Everything had gone so perfectly until now. The jet passed by with the roar of the engine vibrating off the side of the mountain. Budd watched as the jet disappeared back to the area it had first appeared from.
Dallas ran over to Clive and turned him over. The man was dead. Dallas still shook his torso and smacked his face trying to get a response. Clive lay dead in his arms.
“We need to go,” Budd said still looking at the sky.
Dallas worked Clive’s limp body onto his back and lifted him onto his shoulders. Dallas walked on while the rest of the men followed behind.
Scotty climbed back up to the trail after leaping off the side. He limped from twisting his ankle on the way down. The jet came back around and everyone pressed themselves against the side of the mountain. The jet fired its cannons into the mountain several hundred feet above. It was apparent now that the pilot had no idea where they were. Hitting Clive was out of pure luck. Dallas never stopped marching back to the camp. A half an hour after the aerial assault started the sky was silent again. The Rangers were gone, already reflecting on their victory and loss.
Dallas would take Clive’s body back to the camp and bury him. He never forgot that Clive was offered an Officer’s rank upon signing up and turned it down, choosing this life instead. He always respected his intelligence and sought his council on tough choices. Now he didn’t have that man to turn to for the tough decisions. All of this ran through his mind as he carried his friend’s body back to camp. Until this moment the Rangers had been playing it safe; now the rules had changed. Once Clive was in the ground Dallas would start making plans to cause the Chinese to doubt their decision to ever come here.
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