“Keep firing!” Ling shouted. “Kill as many of them on the road as possible!” Sala Jihan’s forces continued their relentless push. Several of their vehicles had been disabled or destroyed, but the rest drove around them. Troops dismounted and began to run up the hill at us, screaming like madmen the whole while. The enemy’s incoming fire was taking its toll on our defensive position now. One of the trucks with a 14.5mm machine gun mounted on it was shot to pieces. RPGs streaked up and down the hill.
Struggling to overcome the chaos, I fired shot after shot, magazine after magazine, as rapidly as I could accurately manage. My rifle was hot to the touch. The enemy convoy was almost on top of us. Two vehicles, beat-up old cars, swerved out of the line and sped around the others. They accelerated up the hill toward our position. The gunner in the BTR-70 turned his attention to it, pouring fire into the car. Riddled with huge holes and burning, it veered off into the snow bank and exploded. The concussion from the blast rattled us all.
The other car was already on top of us.
“VBIED!” I screamed, pronouncing it “vee-bed,” but it was already too late. I barely had time to get down as the little car crashed into the side of the BTR-70 and detonated.
* * *
The next thing I knew, I was face down on cold pavement. My ears were ringing. Muffled sounds of gunfire and screams swirled all around me, but I just couldn’t focus. A bright orange light was behind me, and I felt heat on my back. The BTR-70 was ablaze. The big truck next to it, closest to the four-foot wall that marked the northern edge of the dam, was mangled. The stench of diesel and burning interior filled my nostrils.
I pushed myself up to my elbows and tried to focus. Someone ran past me, coming around the burning APC, then stopped in his tracks. He was dressed in camouflage pants, a tattered brown great coat, and carried a Mosin Nagant carbine with the bayonet locked into place. His eyes were wide as saucers. He leveled the rifle at me and screamed as he charged.
I rolled to my right and pulled my revolver. No time to align the sights, I just shoved it out and rocked the trigger. It bucked in my hand as it roared. The fanatical young soldier’s stomach splashed red. His scream turned into a shriek, but he kept coming, stumbling, falling, rusty spike bayonet slicing the air toward my face. I pushed myself out of the way just as the point of the bayonet struck the pavement. The screaming fanatic was carried forward by his momentum, pivoting around his rifle and landing on top of me.
Struggling to sit up, I tried to push the dead weight off of me. Two more soldiers appeared around the side of the burning armored personnel carrier. One had some kind of pump shotgun in his hands and was firing from the hip. The other carried nothing but a satchel full of hand grenades. The shotgunner noticed me just as I acquired him in my sights. The .44 Magnum roared two more times as I ended him. The grenadier had a frag in his hands, pin pulled, when I shot him. He fell over backwards. I barely had time to hide my face behind the dead body on my chest before the grenade exploded.
We were being overrun. There was no time to lie under a corpse in a daze. I managed to sit up and pushed the slave soldier’s body off of me. Someone grabbed my arm. Every muscle in my body tensed. I swung my revolver around to fire over my right shoulder. The tritium front sight aligned on Skunky’s face.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” he cried, eyes wide. “Holy shit, it’s me!”
“I almost shot you in the face!” I snarled, hand suddenly shaking. “Fuck!”
“C’mon, dude,” he said, helping me to my feet. “We need to get out of here. We’ve been— Get down!” My friend pushed me back, snapped his carbine to his shoulder, and cranked off half a dozen shots. Hot 5.56 brass bounced off my shoulders and burned the back of my neck. “Damn it, they’re everywhere!”
I picked up my rifle and came to my feet. “We need to fall back. We can’t hold them here.” Everyone else seemed to be engaged in a fighting retreat back to the superstructure of the dam. “Wait, where’s Ling?”
“I don’t know!” Skunky said, quickly changing magazines. “Come on, we have to go!”
“Ling!” I yelled, trying to make myself heard over the chaos. Bullets snapped past us in both directions. The Exodus operatives were running and gunning their way back across the dam. The extremely motivated, but completely disorganized, slave soldiers were still trying to take advantage of the hole they’d punched in our defensive position. Their own vehicles had piled up, and many seemed to be milling about without direction. They had no leadership and weren’t sure what to do. It gave us a brief opportunity to regroup. “Ling! Where are you? Ling!”
Skunky shook his head. “Come on, man, she’s probably on her way back to the dam. We can’t stay here! We gotta go!” The smoke from the burning vehicles was so thick that it was impossible to see very far. Despite the moonlight, we were enveloped in darkness. Ling was out there somewhere, and I couldn’t just leave her.
Her voice rang through the hellish scene, clear against the low-pitched roar of battle. She called my name.
“Where are you?” I shouted back. Skunky looked around frantically. We couldn’t see but a few feet in any direction now.
“I’m here!” Ling said, stumbling through the smoke. “I’m he—” her words were cut off in a fit of coughing.
“Ling! Oh my God!” I ran to her and grabbed her arm. She’d been injured. Blood trickled from under her wool cap down her pretty face. Her cheeks were smeared with soot. “What happened?”
She was in a daze. “I don’t know. I . . . we have to get to the . . . the . . .”
“Come on, we’re going back!” Ling only nodded. She was too out of it to argue.
I raised my voice as loud as I could. “Exodus! Fall back! If you’re still here, fall back to the east! Move, move, move!” Several shouts of acknowledgment rang through the haze. With Skunky’s help, I used the smoke as cover and led Ling back toward the superstructure of the dam.
The chaos caused by the enemy’s vehicle-borne improvised explosive device gave us enough of a break in the onslaught to retreat back across the dam. That was the only good news, though. We were now stuck on top of the dam. The only way we had to retreat was east, which would put us on the wrong side of the river and leave us stranded. We had too many wounded to move without vehicles.
I told the remaining Exodus operatives to set up a defensive perimeter around the superstructure of the dam. We’d lost our trucks and our heavy machine guns, but there were still a couple belt-feds on the line. Sala Jihan’s forces now had to come from the west, straight across the top of the dam, with no cover. It would cost them dearly. But they were utterly relentless and oblivious to their own casualties. There weren’t enough of us left to win a battle of attrition.
Skunky joined the defensive position outside as I led Ling into the dam. I called for a medic and had her sit down against the wall. The Exodus medic, a young woman whom I guessed was from India, knelt next to Ling and began to administer aid.
“You have a gash on your head,” the medic told Ling. “It’s not very deep. You are very fortunate. Two centimeters closer and this would have killed you.”
“She was close to the vee-bed when it detonated,” I told her. “The car bomb, I mean. She may have been close to the blast.” The blast overpressure is the most destructive component of an explosion. It has a very short lethal radius, depending on the size of the blast, compared to fragmentation. Being caught in it can do instant, horrific damage to the human body, including traumatic brain injury. Having experienced a TBI myself, I was very worried about Ling.
As the medic talked to her, she seemed to come around. “I think it is just a case of shock,” the medic said with a slight accent. “She’s responsive. Her wound is dressed and I have not found any other injuries. Please stay with her, I need to attend the others.”
I nodded and the medic ran off, aid bag in hand. There were many wounded and we were likely running low on medical supplies. Inside the concrete superstructure, the sounds of gunfire outsid
e echoed throughout the corridors. The lights dimmed and flickered with the occasional grenade or RPG detonation.
Ling sat up against the wall and just slowly shook her head. She then buried her face in her hands. I moved closer to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She didn’t look at me, but she put her gloved hand on top of mine.
“Michael, I am so sorry,” she said.
We didn’t have time for her to be sorry. But she needed a moment, she needed help, and I was all she had. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“I do,” she insisted. “I’m afraid I’ve led you to your death. I don’t think any of us are getting out of here.”
“What’s going to happen? Will Katsumoto blow the dam even if we’re still on it?”
Ling shook her head. “Not if there’s any way for us to retreat to safety. I don’t think we’ll have that chance, though. I think today is the day we die.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Michael. You’ve been through so much. You’ve seen enough of war. I pulled you out of hell and led you right back into it, and I had no right.”
I managed a smile for her. “I’m supposed to be here.” She actually laughed in that musty, dimly lit corridor. “And I haven’t given up yet. Come on now,” I said, standing. “Can you walk?” She nodded. “Okay. Your people need you now. They need a leader. If there’s any chance at all of us getting out of this alive, it’ll be up to you and Katsumoto to make that happen.”
Ling nodded again. “You’re right, of course. You’re right. Thank you.”
“They’re holding the line up there for the moment. I don’t think the enemy has regrouped for their final push yet. Let’s go downstairs and see how things are going. Katsumoto needs to be up here leading this fight.” I turned down the corridor, but Ling grabbed my sleeve.
I turned around. “What—” Ling stepped forward, closed her eyes, and kissed me. The warmth of her lips, her breath, her body against mine contrasted starkly against the cold, dingy air of the old hydroelectric plant.
She stepped back after a moment, blushing slightly. “I wish we had more time,” she said with a sad smile. “There is . . . much I would like to say.”
I didn’t know what to say, or what to do. I hadn’t touched a woman since Sarah died. Before Ling pulled me out of North Gap, I hadn’t even seen a woman, except for Dr. Silvers, in months. Ling was beautiful, with dark almond eyes and shiny black hair. There was no denying that I was attracted to her. Tailor had teased me about it when we first met Ling, a lifetime ago in Mexico.
You don’t have time for high school drama, goddamn it, I scolded myself. I looked into Ling’s eyes. “We’re not dead yet,” I managed, trying to sound reassuring. “Come on, let’s get going.”
We found Katsumoto and the Exodus engineers in the heart of the dam. Explosive charges had been placed all around the roaring turbines, and daisy-chained together with many strands of red, yellow, and green det cord.
“Katsumoto-sama,” Ling said, using a formal honorific. “We are out of time. Our perimeter has collapsed and most of our vehicles have been destroyed. If we wait much longer will we be overrun completely and the mission will fail.”
Katsumoto, though small of stature, was a proud man who commanded great respect. His demeanor hinted at a quiet intensity, but he was completely calm and collected. “I know,” he said simply. “And I am sorry. The placing of the charges took too long. This is my responsibility. I fear I may have killed us all. This is why I wanted to just destroy the dam. We would not have taken nearly so long to place the charges.”
Before Ling could say anything, one of the demolition engineers stood upright. He maintained composure but looked like he was fighting back tears. “Commander! It is I who is responsible. This is my fault!”
Their willingness to assume responsibility for failure was noble, but we didn’t have time for finger pointing, even if they were pointing fingers at themselves. “Guys, guys, guys,” I said, interrupting. “The question is what the hell do we do now? Your troops are fighting for their lives up there. The enemy is fanatical but disorganized. It’s all Jihan’s conscripts. We haven’t seen any of the Brotherhood yet.”
“They must be all at the fortress,” Ling suggested.
“That makes sense,” I agreed. “And it’s the only good news we have. We still have a chance to get clear of this, even if we have to retreat to the east side of the dam and blow it from there.”
“We will be stranded,” Katsumoto reminded me, “on the wrong side of the river. It shouldn’t collapse from the explosion, but once we move off the dam to the east, getting all the way back across it under fire may be impossible.”
“I know. But a few people making it out on foot, or at least having the shot, is better than everyone martyring themselves here. Live to fight another day, right? If the dam is disabled, we’ve accomplished the mission. It’s not hopeless yet.”
“What do you suggest?” Katsumoto asked.
“They broke through our defensive line but they still have a big choke point there. We’re pouring fire on them as they come through, and we can keep that up until the ammo runs out. Then we’ll be overrun. So we can’t stay here. We have to push.”
“The odds are not good.”
“No, they’re not. But they can only bring so many across the dam at a time, and there’s not much cover. Their numbers don’t mean much in a fatal funnel like that. We can suppress them with whatever machine guns and grenades we have left. We use smoke and advance under concealment. We only have to push them back west to where the car bomb went off. We can pick up weapons from their dead if we need to.”
“Then what?” Ling asked.
“At the western edge of the dam we’re at least on the right side of the river. If we have to cut across country on foot, we can link up with the others or get back to town. We can use the stretchers as sleds and drag the wounded across the snow if we have to. The vee-bed wasn’t that big. I don’t think it disabled all of the trucks. If we break their assault completely, we might be able to get in a vehicle and make it back down the road. Either way, it’s better than being stuck on the east side, and it’s a hell of a lot better than everyone getting wiped out. It’s not much of a chance but it’s the best one we’ve got.”
Katsumoto looked thoughtful for a long moment, then nodded his head slightly. “Yes. Yes. Mr. Valentine, you are indeed an asset. We will do as you suggest.”
“Your people need you up there on the line,” I said. “Are the charges ready?”
“They are,” Katsumoto confirmed. “We have only to spool out the wire and initiate the charge. We will have to do it quickly, though. If we delay, if their forces back-fill behind us as we withdraw, they might be able to get down here and disrupt the explosives before they detonate.” Katsumoto then looked at the demolition engineer. His winter camouflage smock was stained with dirt. “Prepare the explosives for initiation. Do not begin the time fuze yet. That will be the last thing we do before we make our push to the end of the dam. We have to make sure we can move the wounded before we do that.”
“How long will we have?”
“Fifteen minutes. We can initiate sooner if we get off of the dam in time. Everyone needs to be clear in case the dam actually collapses.”
“Understood, Commander!” the engineer said. He then gathered his teammates and ran off to complete his task.
“Come,” Katsumoto said. He reached behind his back and brought his weapon, a SIG 552 carbine, around. “Let us finish this.”
The battle was raging when we returned to the surface. The remaining Exodus defenders were holding the enemy at bay, if only barely. Most of the amber lights across its topside roadway were intact, illuminating the bodies that littered the roadway. Black smoke poured into the air as both BTR-70s continued to burn, one on either side of the dam, giving the scene a hellish glow.
Skunky was among the defenders waiting for us when we emerged. He and several other Exodus operatives came to Katsumoto
while the rest held the line. They needed to know what the plan was. Katsumoto took a knee with them, behind cover, and outlined our strategy. The word was passed along to everyone that was still alive. A couple of the 4x4s we’d convoyed up in were still parked by the superstructure and operational. The immobile wounded would be piled into them. The walking wounded would make the final push with us.
I’d done my best to sound confident to the Exodus leadership, but we really didn’t have much of a chance. Oh, I thought we could hold them off until the dam blew. I was actually very sure about that, but I was more concerned with getting home alive, and I didn’t really think that was looking likely. We had enough firepower to push the enemy back for a while. We didn’t have enough to fight the entire column down the road and make our escape. The best we could hope for would be to scatter into the woods, trudging through the snow, hoping to get to friendly forces without being captured, shot, or succumbing to the cold. The wounded almost certainly wouldn’t make it.
I made sure my rifle and revolver were both topped off. The hideous plastic Taurus snubby was in my coat pocket if I needed it. The fifth and final round in that gun’s cylinder might be for myself, I decided. I had heard enough horror stories about Sala Jihan that I resolved not to be captured alive. Taking a deep breath, I drew my bayonet from its sheath and snapped it onto the end of my rifle. The blade glinted dully in the firelight from the burning vehicles. There were a lot of bad guys out there, and we were going to have to punch through them all.
Skunky saw me fix my bayonet. “It’s ugly out there, bro. No matter what happens, I’m glad you’re here with me. It’s good to fight with you again.”
Swords of Exodus Page 41