What started out as a group of thirty had dwindled down to a meager ten individuals. Including himself there were four men: five women and one boy. The youngest member of the group, Tyler, was an orphan before the Day. The local community had taken care of him and he was well known for his street smarts and sneaking around. He had become a proficient thief and that came in handy these days. Now twelve years old, he would sneak into enemy territory and steal what he could for the rest of the group. There were days Kong hated sending a child to provide, but there was no other choice.
The trail led into Seattle with signs guiding the way for the former travelers. Once they were in the city they set up camp inside a former strip mall. The place had been gutted out, everything hauled away for scrap. The inside of the building was bare walls and a roof. Not knowing the situation of the Seattle area, they agreed to stay inside in fear they might be spotted by drones as they had seen in areas like Portland. The drones were something new that the Chinese were trying. One could tell the older brass were in charge of the initial invasion, but when things didn’t go easy younger men moved up the ladder, as they tend to do during war, and were now taking the lead. The technology they were familiar with was coming into play.
That night Tyler was sent out to do some recon and learn about the area they were in. The boy didn’t have to travel far to find a small squad of Chinese soldiers. They were manning a guard post intended to filter the traffic exiting and entering the city from that area. Tyler noticed the rest of the streets were blocked by random debris that could be found and easily moved. The newer cars that no longer ran were sometimes stacked to form a wall. These cars weren’t as desired since the bodies were more plastic and Styrofoam than actual metal.
The boy watched to figure out the time that the guards rotated shifts. If they could hit the spot during a rotation the casualties would be doubled. In some cases, they had learned to rig the bodies of guards they killed so more would be injured during pickup. These were things Tyler kept in mind as he watched a truck pull up to the guard’s post. The vehicle was a large diesel cargo truck, likely going to the harbor for export. The truck slowed down, but then the driver’s door opened and a man fell out, rolling to the ground. The truck continued moving and the guards raised their weapons. When it was obvious the truck wasn’t going to stop, the men opened fire and the truck continued to the gate and crashed into the Humvee parked behind it. A second later the truck exploded, sending sheets of metal flying through the air and past Tyler where he was hiding. Looking at the scene afterwards, the guards were no longer there. The post was empty except for the burning tires and frame of the truck that was once there.
Tyler grew excited to see a real resistance group fighting the Chinese. He only saw one man, but the truck told a story of several people working together to create a bomb. Carefully, he moved away from the spot and went back to tell the good news to the rest of the group.
In the former strip mall, Tyler had trouble keeping his excitement at bay. The people inside had heard the explosion and were worried he might have been killed.
“Three guards were just killed at a checkpoint by a bomb. I watched it,” Tyler said. A mixture of expressions filled the room. Some were excited like him; others were disappointed, hoping the fighting might be over.
“We’ll do some more recon tomorrow and figure out our next move,” Kong told the rest of the group.
The rush of adrenaline made it impossible for Tyler to sleep. The next day he would be back to work and wanted to know who the people were that had put up such a fight. Tyler could not remember the last time he watched somebody other than his people fight against the Chinese.
Chapter 44
The view of the port from the deck of the Hungry Panda told a tale of a battle gone horribly wrong. The purpose of the EMP was to leave the infrastructure secure so that occupation would be easy. Move in, secure, and expand was the breakdown of the mission. Somehow things had become screwed up and Xing was seeing the results of it.
The sides of apartment and office buildings had been blown out trying to counter attacks by snipers. Troops were now constantly requested to replace those lost while on duty or the ones who had already served past their designated times.
Xing moved back to his quarters and double checked all of his equipment. His mission was not like the rest. He was part of an anti-terrorist response team. Since the Chinese were now starting to claim large sections of L.A. and Portland as official Chinese territory, their response teams could be deployed to fight against the American threat.
Taking a radio from his bag, Xing called for the rest of his men to meet him at the plank to exit. They were expecting to be picked up and taken to a secure location to access the situation. There were twelve men all together; two separate teams of six men. The men were already waiting on the deck when Xing emerged. They all dressed in black uniforms. Since the city was declared a war zone they dressed for action as soon as they reached the shore. The docks were said to be secure, but this information came from the same officers who assured Beijing over the past five years everything was secure. Xing learned long ago not to trust the opinions of incompetent men.
The men filed off the plank to the dock where they were greeted by an armed convoy. They were driven to the former location of Kells Irish Restaurant and Bar, and set up their command post. The building was constructed into the side of a hill, leaving half of it secure. The front of the structure was reinforced with sandbags and concrete barriers.
Xing received the reports of the latest attacks.
“How is this sniper still active?” Xing asked one of the soldiers handing him the information.
“We think there is more than one.” The soldier didn’t sound confident in his answer.
Xing sat that report aside. Moving on he read about a truck bomb destroying a roadblock to the south of the city. Another report listed several men who were declared missing from logging sites. After that an assault against an armory where ammo and weapons were stolen. The following report was older, but mentioned a body found in the basement of an auto repair shop wearing a General’s uniform.
“What is this?” Xing flipped the page over showing it to the soldier.
“We think that was General Choi.”
“A general was captured?” Xing couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What else?”
“They blew the bridge while escaping,” the soldier added. “The one from here to Belleview.”
The city was a mess. The stack of reports was almost too much to go over. Xing felt overwhelmed and tossed the papers aside.
“Okay,” Xing started to say. “You are going to go through these and mark the locations of the attacks on that map.” Xing pointed to the map of the city on the wall. “Color code them and when you’re done let me know.”
Xing grabbed his bags and found his room in the back of the restaurant where a bunk was set up. The job wasn’t impossible. Nothing was impossible. He didn’t bother to empty his bags before laying on the cot and falling asleep.
Chapter 45
The Rangers and Canadians were in position for the raid on a communications center they spotted while doing recon in the city. The tower was a dead giveaway along with the generator humming outside was the dumbest thing the Chinese could have done.
The current time was an hour after sunset and the guards outside smoked cigarettes while leaning against their trucks. Budd loved to watch the cherry light up when they inhaled. The red glow was perfect for focusing a scope on and putting the two men down. With the guards gone the men moved in and quickly worked on the generator and the tower. Plastic explosives were placed on the legs of the tower and the generator was blown with a charge placed on the fuel tank. The mission took less than two minutes. The men were gone before more troops arrived from the noise.
While the men were leaving they spotted another group of people moving by a gas station. They appeared to be Chinese and carried AK-47s. The only difference was that
they weren’t in uniform. Dallas and Michael suspected the Chinese weren’t sending supplies of new equipment and the soldiers had to use what they could get their hands on. Both men signaled for their groups to enclose the area. As they watched, it appeared the soldiers were sabotaging the gas station. At first it didn’t make sense, unless the Chinese suspected this might be another target for the Americans. A second later a shot rang out and the two groups were engaged in a firefight.
“Move in,” Dallas ordered as the three Rangers closed in on the gas station. The Canadians moved around to flank the position and pinch in from the side.
The soldiers retreated to the convenience store and ducked inside.
The glass exploded, sending shards flying to the floor. The old shelves were bare. Made of metal, the people inside moved them against the windows and doorway as a barrier. It wasn’t bulletproof, but it offered concealment.
With the people trapped inside, Dallas wondered if it was a time to gain some intelligence and take a prisoner.
“Surrender now and toss your weapons outside,” Dallas yelled as the gunshots died down.
“Who are you?” a voice speaking English responded.
“What the hell,” Michael was just as shocked as Dallas.
“Army Rangers,” Dallas answered. “Are you Chinese military?”
“Korean Americans,” the voice answered. “Don’t shoot. We’re coming out.”
Hands were raised and people appeared in the broken windows.
“Well how the hell were we supposed to know?” Budd said to himself. “They all look the same.”
Kelly stood next to Budd and looked over with an evil gaze.
“I feel you staring at me,” Budd said. “You think I said that because I didn’t know you were there?”
“One day, you racist bitch,” Kelly warned.
“You know I love you slant eyes.”
The people were walking out of the gas station now. The Rangers and Canadians searched the group they had been shooting at only a minute before.
“If you are who you say you are, I apologize,” Dallas said. “Just need to make sure you are who you say you are.”
“Well you might want to hurry up because that bomb by the fuel takes has about five minutes left on the timer.”
The group moved out and just like the man said the gas station exploded in the distance. The sky lit up from the ball of flames that shot into it.
Once the group was outside of the city limits they stopped. Dallas and Michael took the suspected leader aside.
“Simple question,” Dallas said. “Who are you?”
“Kong, formally of Los Angeles. Koreatown.” Kong cleared his throat.
“L.A. That’s a hell of a trip,” Michael responded.
“Tell me about it. We started as a resistance group led by Lady Kim. She was the mother of our community in a way. She led the fight until we had to leave L.A. She knew we were about to be overrun and had the group leave town. While we were escaping she executed the General in charge of the city. We made it to Big Sur and set up traps for the soldiers following us. Before Kim died she left me in charge. We tried to continue the resistance, but our numbers went from 30 to 20 in a matter of months. No food and no supplies, we continued north past Portland to Seattle.”
“Why Seattle?” Dallas wondered.
“That wasn’t our final destination. We were trying to get to Canada in hopes we could seek refuge there. The Chinese don’t like Koreans, especially south Koreans. We saw the resistance here and thought we could do some good before the final trip north.”
Michael took Dallas aside.
“What do you think?” Michael asked.
“I think he’s telling the truth.” Dallas looked at the battered and beaten man. “If he isn’t telling the truth he is the best damn liar I ever met.”
“We need to keep an eye on them,” Michael said.
“Agreed.”
The group of six were taken back to the camp. When they were still tied, but fed and cared for until their story could be confirmed.
“We still have four people waiting for us to come back,” Kong said. “Three women and a boy.”
“Where are they at?” Dallas asked.
Kong’s hands were untied and he drew a map from the gas station back to the mini-mall when they had set up shop.
“If this turns out to be a trap, you and your people will be executed,” Dallas said.
“Understood.” Kong didn’t hesitate with his answer. That was a good sign to Dallas that the story was legitimate.
Kong’s hands were tied once more and three men went to the location they were told about.
Kicking in the door, the room was cleared in five seconds and the three women and boy were found sitting in the middle. The women were shaking, thinking this was their end. The boy glared at Ray, Neal, and Kelly with intense hatred. Kelly walked up to the boy.
“It’s ok,” Kelly said. “I’m Korean too.”
The women arose from the floor, hearing the statement and looking around noticing that none of the weapons were pointed at them.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Kelly said, moving everyone outside and traveling by foot back to the camp before sunrise.
Chapter 46
The concrete dust filled Sophie’s nose as she pushed past the urge to sneeze or itch. At this point she knows when she does clear her nose blood will fill the rag from the dried and cracked sinus enduring this environment.
The current position is a former apartment building called The Wave at Pioneer Square that she was surprised to find empty. The outside appears to be a series of stacked glass boxes. She wanted to call it the eagle’s nest, but decided against it, knowing she could only use it once. The last time she appeared at the camp for more ammunition, Dallas had warned her that more snipers were brought in to take care of ‘the problem.’ Canadian intelligence was proving useful. An ex-boyfriend called her that after their relationship ended and the term hit a nerve that she hadn’t felt touched in years.
“The problem?” she repeated, thinking it funny they used that term.
“I like it,” Dallas replied. “It means you are getting to them.”
Sophie filled her pack and ammo pouches on her belt. The few hundred rounds she would take with her would last for months. Dallas hovered around. She wondered if they would repeat their moment the night before she left the camp. Since then her spotter had been killed or was missing. She never learned what happened to the second group from the prison.
“I can send another spotter with you,” Dallas commented.
“Are you volunteering?” she responded without thinking. She could tell from the look on his face he was thinking about how to accomplish such a thing. The moment lasted a second before his face changed and the fantasy was gone. “I work better alone,” she said, letting him off the hook.
It had been three months since the last time she was in the camp. The surprise she found wasn’t that the monkey wrenches had gone off on their own or that the Canadians were now working in country. She was surprised to see that a good looking guy like Dallas didn’t have one of the women in the group shacked up with him. The way he hovered, trying to sound professional, told her what his eyes were set on.
“Do you have any intel on current positions?” he asked.
“I already marked them on the map.” She turned, smiled and walked away from the supplies.
Dallas stood behind watching her walk away. “Wait,” he said. He was pulling something out from behind him. A knife was in his hands. She took it from him and pulled the knife from the sheath; a bowie tip at the end of a flat black blade. She pushed the blade back into the sheath.
“Thanks,” she said.
“I noticed you didn’t have one,” he said. “You never know.”
Nodding her head, she slid the sheath in her belt until she could strap it on later. When she was finished she walked up, standing on her toes, and kissed Dallas on the cheek. Then a
gain on the lips. “You never know.”
Walking away she heard a whistle. It wasn’t from Dallas; she could tell he would still be standing there with that stupid look on his face.
“Damn man, I ain’t going out tonight. Looks like all the action is here.” Of course the comment came from Budd.
That was days ago, and now she was here, stuck in a tower overlooking miles of the city. Her rifle could only cover a small fraction of what she saw, but that meant nobody could touch her either.
Asking the usual question of ‘where would I hide?’ Sophie looked through the scope and found a construction site that was abandoned after the Day. Large pipes for sewer lines were left hanging in the air. If one was inclined to stay there for days, or climb during the night into position, that would be a good spot. She liked mobility, the chance to escape. She always had a backup plan. Dallas’ plan of shoot once and move worked most of the time. Somehow the Chinese had been able to learn quickly where shots had come from. She had been on the run a few times resorting to sewers, tunnels, and alleys to make her getaway. Many times she had to use a mix or all of them to reach a safe point.
The sun was out, shining in a clear blue sky. The tower heated up with the broken glass reflecting the sun into the manmade caves. Sophie kept an eye on the tubes that hung in the air. Her gut told her that somewhere in there a sniper waited. Had the opposition realized the same thing she did, that the tower was a great place to do some work?
As the sun moved across the sky, Sophie could see the reflection of the sunlight hitting the ground below her. Soon the light would reach the construction site and maybe she could get a look at what was in the tubes. Her muscles hurt from being in a prone position for the last ten hours. In some cases, she waited three days to see an officer who was worth the shot. Knowing that there were snipers deployed after her, she figured the places she was working would become hot spots for her hunters. A week before she had worked outside of this tower and it was that day she noticed how well it would function. Others must have noticed too.
Homefront: A Story of the Future Collapse Page 23