Homefront: A Story of the Future Collapse

by Matthew Gilman

  “Sir, the airstrike neutralized the tank that was captured.” Feng said, turning from the radio.

  Xing knew the airstrike was pointless. The people who captured the tank had left it to take the depot. He turned and nodded, acknowledging the information, then turned back to the board. Where were they going to strike next?

  There were a few options. The motor pool, the gods know men don’t want to be deployed there. There was the communication center that was still being repaired. A second was set up on the opposite side of the city until this one was operational. Unless the Americans were simply trying to capture ground the attack didn’t make sense. He knew their numbers didn’t justify trying to take large portions of land.

  “Sir,” Feng said, a surprised look on his face. “It appears the Americans are retreating.”

  A surprised and concerned look came to Xing’s face. This did not make sense. Why retreat now when the attack was going so well?

  “Confirm that information,” Xing ordered. “I want multiple sources.”

  Feng sent out a message and a few minutes later they received the same transmission.

  “The Americans are retreating from the supply depot.”

  Xing looked at the map. Nothing made sense now. A good portion, ten percent of the city, was under American control and yet they were fleeing. Did they know about the airstrike?

  A few minutes later the depot was destroyed and Xing cringed at the loss of so much ordinance. In the doorway a figure emerged.

  “Sir,” one of his men said. “Do you want us to deploy? We can go after them.”

  “No, you are to stay here.”

  It was the anti-terrorist task force wanting to move out with their itchy trigger fingers. They were dressed in full black tactical gear and impatient for some action when so much was going on around them. It was then that Xing saw it.

  “They are coming here,” Xing said. “They are mechanized now. Is that correct?”

  “Yes sir,” Feng said in response. “ATVs and other stolen vehicles.”

  “They are coming here.” Xing grabbed a few items and dressed in his personal room. When he emerged he carried an all-black AK-47 with a red dot scope and recoil suppression stock. “Move out.”

  “What about me?” Feng said.

  “Grab your shit,” Xing said. “Do I have to tell you everything?”

  Chapter 52

  The streets were surprisingly empty considering the offensive that was happening. By reacting to the attack, so much of the Chinese personnel was heading to the new frontline. The Americans would duck into buildings or hide behind cars when vehicles appeared in the street. Dallas wondered if the group would make it back to the woods. Along with Dallas and Michael were Greg and Budd. The four men were fully stocked and ready for action.

  “Where is this damn place that your girlfriend mentioned?” Budd asked.

  “It’s down the street from the original Starbuck’s coffee shop,” Dallas said.

  “Fuck man, that’s like two miles away,” Budd said, sounding disappointed.

  “Suck it up,” Greg said, tired of hearing Budd complain.

  The men hustled down the street and made their way past a parking lot and Deja Vu strip club.

  “You think they are open?” Budd asked.

  “They are,” Greg said. “I saw your mom working.”

  “In that case I feel sorry for you,” Budd replied.

  They moved down an old brick layered street and found the side street for Kells Irish Pub. In front of them was the Pike’s Place market that Seattle became known for, but became more of a tourist destination. Now it was abandoned and waited to rust away into history like so much of the city.

  Budd and Greg moved to the opposite side of the street where they could see the front of Kells Irish Pub. Sandbags were stacked outside. The establishment still looked new from the outside. Dallas and Michael breeched the barrier and moved inside the bar, clearing the room. The tables and chairs had been moved long ago. The bar looked the same except the stools were removed. The two men moved into the dining area in a separate section and found that empty as well. Dallas lowered his weapon.

  “Fuck.”

  “What is it?” Michael asked. “Bad intel?”

  Looking at the map on the wall, Dallas could see the positions his people had just held. He ripped the map off the wall and let it drop to the floor. All the thumbtacks rolled on the floor with a ringing tone. “They figured out we were coming.” Dallas grabbed a bottle from the shelf and four glasses. Greg and Budd walked in to find the two men standing at the bar.

  “Now we’re talking.” Budd looked eager for a drink.

  “What did I miss?” Greg asked.

  “We’re fucked,” Michael said. “They knew we were coming.”

  “Well in that case,” Budd downed his glass of fifteen-year-old scotch and exhaled the burning sensation from his throat. After savoring the drink, he pulled one of his cigarettes from his pocket and lit it.

  “What do we do now?” Michael asked.

  “Alamo,” Dallas said.

  “I might be Canadian, but I understand the reference.” Michael looked at the door and started to figure out how to secure the location.

  “All those guys died, right?” Budd asked. A nod from Dallas answered the question. “Fucking Texans.”

  Xing laid on the rooftop across the street from Kells Irish Pub. His men were ready for the attack, but he had them wait. Xing wanted to know the full extent of the force he was dealing with. He watched two men move down the street then breech the bar that was his former headquarters only an hour before.

  “You want us to move sir?” one of the men asked.

  “Hold,” Xing was intent on getting the men trapped inside the building. The logic was sound. Defending a position was always a lost cause; lay siege to a position long enough the supplies run out. A sieged position has no supply line to maintain it and therefore will fall in due time. If he had to wait a week for the men to come out, he would. At least then he would have the brains of the resistance group that was a pain in his ass. No one else would have been sent here to attack this position. He knows that because he would have done the same thing.

  Two more men went into the building and disappeared through the door. He didn’t have time to rig the building with explosives. Part of him wished he had, but he wanted one of them alive for interrogation.

  “Call in the drones,” Xing said to Feng who had his battery operated radio. The call went out and the control center was diverting drones from other locations to the Irish pub as ordered. In a minute he would have a good view of who he was dealing with.

  Dallas slammed the glass on the bar top and looked at the three men with him. “We are going to hold this position and take as many of these fuckers with us as we can.”

  “Already working on it,” Michael said. He looked out the window and saw the sandbags stacked up. He rigged a tripwire at the two front doors, connected to grenades.

  The men set up positions behind old thick tables that worked more as concealment than cover. The wood wasn’t bulletproof for a 7.62 round, but it was better than nothing. In the two rooms the men waited. All they could do was wait. If they left the building they would be shot in the street. The Chinese didn’t have that much time on their hands.

  The humming of a machine outside caught their attention. Shadows appeared on the floor by the doorway and a flying robot appeared. The machine hovered by six propellers on a rectangular frame. On the front was a pistol mounted with a camera next to it. The men opened fire and tried their best to hit the small, thin object. It was as complicated as trying to shoot the gun out of a man’s hand; at least then you could aim for the man and knock him to the ground. That wasn’t an option here.

  The men shot and were shot at. More drones appeared in the doorway and the men took turns firing at the flying menace. One was shot down and couldn’t fly anymore. The next one was through the doorway and hovered, taking aim. T
his time Michael was able to nail the damn thing and watched as it fell on the trap that he set. The grenade went off taking a third drone with it.

  Outside Xing watched as the doorway exploded, taking three drones with it. He cringed as he watched his limited resources fall to the pavement. Anger flowed through his veins as he sent more drones in. The rest of the men watched knowing that the whole thing was futile. The men inside had limited ammo, that was true. But they would fight to the last bullet and by that time the drones would be gone. Either way the men had to go inside and flush out the Americans, or kill them.

  Three weeks before, Sophie had discovered the base being used by the new Chinese personnel brought in to solve the ‘Seattle problem.’ Pike’s Place Market had resumed being an outdoor market for the Chinese nationals coming into the city. It was her hope to spot some of the higher officials shopping in the open air market, but instead found the Irish pub that had been turned into a command center. The position was deep in the city and was surrounded by barricades and sandbags. Hitting the building with any type of mortar round or sneaking a bomb in was out of the question. A full scale breach would be needed on the position and only likely after a full assault on the city.

  Sophie had given Dallas this information. She didn’t know what he would do with it. On the rooftop, high above the city streets she could see that Dallas went for the head of the snake. Xing and his men were in position across the street from the pub and drones were attacking the bar, one after another.

  Through the scope it was difficult to figure out who the people were on the rooftop. All of the Chinese soldiers wore black and had balaclavas covering their faces. She had the shot if she knew which one she was going to take. A burst of flames escaped from the entrance of the pub. The loud crack of an explosion echoed between the buildings. Several drones lay in the street, too damaged to continue the fight. From surrounding streets more drones approached the building and continued attacking like they had before. As the swarm of drones descended on the bar, Sophie flipped the safety off on the rifle. She could hope for one good shot to end the attack, but that was unlikely and she would give away her position. To have drones like that coming after her would be her end. She couldn’t just sit back and watch as Dallas and the rest of his group were overrun by a bunch of cheap Chinese robots.

  In a split second the attack was over. The drones fell to the ground and stopped working, propellers slowing to a dead stop. One of the men in black on the rooftop started to yell into a radio. The man was slamming the handset against the roof in frustration. Sophie took out her own radio, something she was only to use at designated times. This was not one of those times, but she turned the power on and pressed the button. The radio was dead. She knew the batter still had a week’s worth of life in it.

  Miles away in the distance a jet flew in the sky. It wasn’t flying; instead it was falling towards the earth at an odd angle, one that was not capable of flight. The plane disappeared and was later replaced by black smoke that arose in the air. All around Sophie there were signs of what happened. She remembered that day unlike any other. She didn’t remember 9-11, but she remembered when the power went out and the planes fell from the sky. TVs and radios didn’t work. There was nobody to tell her or her family what to do. The emergency broadcast system wasn’t used on that day. Everyone was left to themselves to figure out what to do.

  Sophie placed the crosshairs on the roof and picked the man in black smacking the radio. Aiming for the center of his back she pulled the trigger.

  The shooting continued in short burst from inside the pub to try and save ammo. The drones flew by the windows, this time no longer trying to enter the bar. They constantly passed by the doors, making the defense difficult, only having a few brief seconds to aim at them. Dallas knew something had changed if the drones were unwilling to enter the bar.

  A drone passed by the window, emptying its pistol through the opening. Then a second later it was gone. The men expected it to be replaced, but that didn’t happen. Instead they waited. Glancing away from the window, Dallas looked at Michael with a questioning look. Michael shrugged his shoulders with a similar confusing look.

  Outside the cranking of metal on the pavement caught their attention. Out of sheer curiosity they wanted to look outside, but knew the entrance was likely covered by shooters. A rifle could be heard in the distance followed by Chinese yelling. Another shot was fired and the Chinese started to shoot, but not at the bar.

  Dallas needed eyes outside and took out his radio. If Sophie didn’t have hers on it was pointless, but it was something to try. Dallas turned the dial and pressed the button to find the radio dead. He knew the life of the battery shouldn’t have expired. Dallas didn’t notice that Budd had moved to the window and peered outside to see the drones broken and lifeless in the street.

  “I think they’re dead,” Budd said, looking at the drones scattered around. More shots were fired and the Chinese could be heard fleeing from the area. Budd looked up at the sky to see a Jet falling from the sky. It wasn’t flying, but falling. “Sarge, you need to see this.”

  Dallas moved over to the window and saw the last seconds of the jet still in view. “What the hell.”

  “What’s going on?” Vance asked.

  “It’s the Day all over again,” Budd said, remembering the cargo plane falling to the runway and exploding.

  “You think the Chinese hit the U.S. with another EMP?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t care who hit us again,” Dallas started to say. “If our communications are down, so are theirs. We move.”

  Dallas and Budd made up the first team while Michael and Vance formed the second. They moved out into the patio area surrounded by sandbags and looked out into the street. The gunshots could still be heard on the roof across the street, but the Chinese could not be seen from their position. Budd rushed out and removed a grenade from his vest. Tossing it on the roof two stories up he rushed back, hearing the pop of the explosion before he had returned to the sandbags.

  “We need to cut them off,” Michael said.

  Dallas and Budd held the position giving cover fire to Michael and Vance as they rushed the street to the side of the building. A few seconds later Dallas and Budd crossed behind them. The shooting from the sniper stopped and Dallas had a feeling they were now on their own.

  At the end of the alley Michael found a fire escape with the metal rattling as the men descended to the ground. They were cursing and swearing in their native tongue. The translation was not needed to understand them. One of the men appeared to be injured, bleeding through his vest. The first man climbing down stopped and looked directly at Michael. The man hollered and Michael raised his rifle as the man fumbled for his own, hanging on a sling from his neck.

  The man in black fell down the fire escape after a three round burst from Michael’s rifle. The rest of the men dressed in black started to return fire. The steel fire escape didn’t provide much cover. The Chinese were trying to retreat back to the roof where they came under fire again from a sniper. The fight appeared to be over in a minute. Hands were raised and weapons thrown to the ground. Five men were ordered to slowly move down the stairs, where they were taken into custody, hands strapped behind their backs just before they were searched. The balaclavas were removed and for the first time Dallas was starring Xing straight in the eyes.

  “Xing I presume,” Dallas said.

  “And you are?” Xing responded.

  “Platoon Sergeant Dallas Shannon of the United States Army Rangers,” Dallas answered. “You appear to be trespassing on U.S. soil.”

  Xing stayed silent not knowing where this interrogation would be heading.

  Chapter 53

  The explosion in the doorway to the bar caught Xing off guard. He called in for more drones right away and a minute later a fleet of replacements appeared into position. The drones continued strafing runs across the doorway and Xing waited to see the response from the pub. Feng continued to receive ra
dio transmission until the radio went dead. Pressing buttons and turning the radio on and off, Feng tried to figure out what was happening. Down on the street all of the drones fell to the pavement.

  “What is happening?” Xing asked Feng. The young man continued trying to get the radio to work with little being accomplished. For some reason his attack was now dead in the water.

  Three of the men behind them turned to see a MiG on patrol falling from the sky miles away. One of the men pointed and whispered to the rest of the group. Xing looked and immediately knew whatever was happening was bad. Had the Americans gotten their hands on an EMP device? Next to Xing, Feng was slamming the radio against the roof out of frustration. As he slammed the device on the roof a third time his torso jerked and he fell limp on the roof. The small hole in his back told Xing they were in the sites of a sniper. He instantly felt more regret for not taking care of that situation earlier. His defenses were down and now the tide had turned to someone else’s advantage. Another shot rang out and the men started to move to the back of the roof. The cover from the alley was the only position they would be safe. Xing moved with his men.

  Some of the men turned towards the building half a block away overlooking them. They started to return fire, buying time for the ground. More shots rang out and a second man was hit. Seconds later the metal ringing sound of a grenade could be heard rolling on the roof.

  “Get down!” Xing hollered, but it was too late. Xing was thrown back from the concussion and two more men were down. The numbers had dwindled from twelve to eight in less than a minute. The men pulled themselves to their feet and on the ledge to the fire escape. Xing was following behind and then an eruption of gunfire came from the alley. Another man was hit, falling onto the steel. The men tried to return fire. Xing and another team member tried to move back to the roof, only to have two bullets fly at them from above. Xing looked down at his options and saw two more men down. It was then he decided their fight was over.