by Mike Kraus
In between the low quality of the transmissions, the static, the acronyms and the initialisms, Frank couldn’t make out any of what was going on. Linda and Jackson listened intently, though, and when Linda noticed Frank’s confused expression she began whispering to him. “They’re not doing well. Mortar and rocket fire has taken out a lot of their static emplacements and they’re starting to weaken. They also just spotted a small group heading for the command building.” Linda glanced at Jackson and spoke louder. “They must be going for the codes to shut down the signal jammers. We need to get in there right now!”
Jackson threw a hand up from the wheel and gestured at the road ahead. “If you happen to see a way in, feel free to point it out! All we’ve got so far are walls, fences and barricades.”
“Oh for—turn in there!”
“Through the fence?”
“Yes, through the fence! We’re not in your wife’s minivan, Jackson!”
The Humvee’s wheels dug deep into the grass, kicking up clods of dirt that intermingled with bits of cheap, poorly-reinforced wood. The fence offered almost no resistance to the vehicle’s assault as Jackson tore through it, heading into the backyard of a long-abandoned home that had yet to be occupied by refugees in the city. The yard was, thankfully, clear of any obstacles, and they smashed through another fence, went down a slight slope across the front yard and skidded into the quiet cul-de-sac out front. The brake pedal squeaked noisily as Jackson slowly lifted up his foot, and he turned to Linda as he slowly accelerated into a turn to head out to a main road toward the command center.
“Just FYI, she drives a truck. Not a minivan.”
Chapter 3
The drive through the city was eerily quiet, as they had taken the Humvee in through the eastern side, where most of the residents were either hiding in their homes and shelters or had already retreated to the south and west. Jackson kept them moving at a quick clip, though, and within a few moments they arrived at the outskirts of what was left of the command center.
What was left of the buildings housing the military and support staff were barely standing. Smoke billowed from the wreckage and fires still burned fresh, fed from lines of fuel leaking from hidden storage containers. Men and women in uniform ran back and forth, carting weapons, pouches with large white and red X’s on them and crates of ammunition and other supplies. The gun and mortar fire had clearly slowed from how it had been when the attack first started, though, as most of the explosions from the shells were distant, at least a few hundred meters or more.
Jackson pulled the Humvee up against a nearby structure that was still relatively intact, trying to shield it from any potential incoming fire, and the trio grabbed their weapons and packs before jumping out. Set up in a series of large, portable, multi-story buildings, the command center was grey in color, and looked to be made of a combination of steel and some sort of high-strength plastic. Piles of sandbags were scattered across the outer edge of the second story of the structure while HESCO bastions lined the bottom story, providing both structure and security.
The upper of the three levels had been completely destroyed and melted bits of the command center were scattered across the ground as Jackson, Frank and Linda jogged toward it. Their presence was either unnoticed or disregarded by the military around the command post, and it didn’t take long to see why. Injured service members, many of them dead or dying, lay on the ground near the barriers on the south side of the command post while medics desperately tended to their wounds.
Presuming that Sarah or someone else in charge would be in what was left in the command center, the trio ran through the open doors and into the main room on the bottom floor. Rows of tables that once held neatly arranged computers had been pushed aside to make room for cots for the more gravely injured. Near the back of the room, at the north side, sandbags were piled high around the narrow windows and soldiers stood near them with scoped rifles, firing rounds at targets in buildings beyond the river. If the atmosphere outside the command center was complete chaos, the atmosphere inside was slightly more organized, but disarray still reigned supreme.
“Sarah!” Linda shouted at the top of her lungs as she looked around in all directions. Jackson and Frank looked as well, though Jackson had his eyes open for anyone who was high enough in rank that they might be in charge of whatever operations were left.
“Linda?” The response was weak, with a hoarse cough following after, and the three turned and rushed toward the source. A pair of medics stood near an elevated cot where a figure was half-covered with a blanket. One of the figure’s legs stuck out from the blanket, though it was mangled and covered in blood and iodine. The medics talked loudly as they worked on the figure’s leg, and Linda had to put a hand to her mouth to conceal her shock.
“Sarah? What… what happened?”
“That?” Sarah lifted her head and smiled weakly. “Just a flesh wound. They hit the command center hard about twenty minutes ago and I got caught in the blast. Precursor to an infiltration attempt but I think we held them off. Sergeant?” She turned and called loudly and a woman whose uniform was streaked in sweat and soot ran up to her.
“Yes, ma’am. That group that crossed the barricade is down. The mortar fire is lessening, so they’re probably preparing another assault like last time.”
“Is the second floor evacuated and—”
“Everyone’s out and we’ve tripled the sandbags. It should keep us safe until we can get all the wounded moved out of range.”
“Good.” Sarah nodded and waved at the woman before turning back to Linda. “Are Jackson and Frank with you?”
“We’re here, ma’am.” Jackson and Frank both stepped up next to Linda.
“Listen up. He’s here. Drones spotted him before they were shot down. He’s north, beyond their line of fire, likely where those skirmishes were coming from a while back. You have to get to him and stop him.”
Linda shook her head. “Not while you’re in this condition. No. Not a chance.”
Sarah reached out and grabbed Linda’s arm, her grip like a vice despite her weakened condition. “Listen to me, girl. None of us are worth that much. You go and you take him down.”
“Ma’am, if I may?” Jackson interrupted and Sarah gave him a long look before nodding at him to continue. “While we were on the way here we saw the rocket and mortar fire coming in. The units here can’t keep hunkering down and taking that kind of a pounding. At some point the enemy’s going to cross the barricade en masse and everyone’s going to be slaughtered, to say nothing of the jamming codes.”
“You got a suggestion, Jackson? Or did you want all of us to say something completely obvious?”
“If we take a small group—three or four at most—we can slip across the river, get back behind the buildings that they’ve got barricaded and take out the mortars. Once those are down you can order the units to move forward and start pressing a counterattack.”
Sarah nodded, almost without hesitation. “You’re right. Linda, you take Jackson and Frank with you. We’ll give you fifteen minutes then hit them as hard as we can to provide you with cover and a distraction so you can hightail it across the bridge. They’ll ignore one lone car, especially if we can hit them with all that we’ve got. I’ll coordinate here and—agh!” Sarah’s whole body tensed in pain and one of the medics swore and turned to look at her.
“Listen, lady, if you don’t hold still then you’re going to bleed out! Just lay still and keep quiet!”
“Sarah, just—look, is there anyone else here who can help coordinate?”
Sarah’s eyes were screwed shut and she whispered her response, trying to hold herself together as the medics worked on what was left of her leg. “Most of the officers were taken out when they hit command. I have to coordinate it.”
Linda looked down at Sarah and took the older woman’s hand, gripping it tightly in her own. Sarah’s hand felt cold and weak, losing much of the strength she had shown only a moment earlier. “Jacks
on?” Linda kept her eyes on Sarah as she spoke.
“What is it?”
“I need you to take over here. Keep an eye on Sarah and start rounding people up to get that distraction ready.”
“Linda, I—”
“Save it, Jackson. Frank and I are heading across the bridge in that Humvee we took in. Once we get across and disable the mortars we’re going to immediately go after Omar. As soon as the mortar fire stops, rally the troops and kick these assholes in the teeth!”
“Can’t you just take a couple more people with you?”
“Nope.” Linda shook her head and looked back down at Sarah. “Do you have any of the high-gain trackers left?”
Sarah nodded again. “Storage. Yellow boxes.”
“That’s enough!” One of the medics shouted and pushed Linda back. “If you want your friend here to live, you need to go!”
Linda didn’t fight the medic, but looked at Jackson as he stepped back as well, giving the medical personnel room to work. “Make sure she lives, Jackson.”
“Will do. When do you want the fifteen minutes to start?”
“No need; I’m going to pick up a tracker so you can monitor us. Just keep the receiver pointed at the bridge and as soon as you see us waiting, get the distraction started.”
“Those things have such a narrow field of view that it’ll be useless once you get very far—”
“Jackson? Just do it. Okay?”
Lieutenant Jackson nodded and gave both Linda and Frank a pat on their backs. “Stay safe. As soon as those mortars are down we’ll hit ‘em like they never thought possible.”
“Make sure you do.” Linda smiled at him before motioning to Frank. “Come on, let’s get moving.”
***
“What are these things, anyway?”
Linda fiddled with a small, matchbox-sized device she had pulled out of some thick foam padding in a large yellow crate. The device finally emitted a soft amber glow on one side and she slipped it into her pocket. “Tracking devices.” she said, grabbing a laptop-sized black rectangle from the box and depressing a switch on the side. The top of the device flipped open and a small screen appeared, along with several buttons. Linda handed the device to Frank. “Press the green button in the middle and point it at me.”
Frank pressed the button and the screen on the tracker lit up. As he angled it toward Linda the screen brightened, showing a blinking icon along with an estimated range between the tag in her pocket and the tracking device. “Huh. Nice. Why are you carrying that, though?”
Linda took the tracker back from Frank and shoved it into her pack and they started moving toward the Humvee. “Comms are a mess right now, but nobody uses these things anymore and they’re super easy to pick up. They’ll be able to track our approximate location and use that to help coordinate the counterattack.”
“Seems… crude.”
Linda shrugged. “Whatever works. If we can get through on the radio, great. If not, though, we’ve got a backup. Plus, there are other uses for these things, too.”
Frank started to ask what she meant but was distracted by the whistle of an incoming mortar that exploded a few dozen feet away, sending shards of concrete and asphalt spewing in all directions. Linda’s hurried but calm demeanor changed in an instant and she broke into a run, shouting at Frank as more whistling became audible in the distance. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
They reached the Humvee and threw their gear in the back, then Linda jumped behind the wheel and Frank climbed in next to her. The engine coughed and sputtered as it started, but after a few choice words from both Linda and Frank it finally roared to life. Linda threw the vehicle into drive and took off, winding around the command center and the maze of HESCO bastions and sandbags to get to the north end of the barricade. A chain link fence had been placed across the road, and she pressed down on the accelerator as they approached it, ignoring the shouts from the soldiers positioned behind barriers on either side.
The fence split open with a loud crash and the metal scraped and screeched against the Humvee as the vehicle pushed forward, heading into what was essentially no-man’s land in between the city and the nearest bridge north over the river. The bridge had several large trucks parked at the southern end, with the rearmost one only half there, having been nearly completely destroyed during the initial attacks. The other trucks were abandoned by their drivers at the time, but the way in which they were positioned offered excellent concealment and cover from the attackers to the north.
Linda pulled up next to the trucks and grabbed the radio from the console, switched it on and started talking loudly into the microphone. “Base, this is Rollins and Richards. We’re at the bridge. Start the diversion, over.” A squelch of static and a torrent of voices called back and she shook her head, trying to pick up any trace of a reply from Jackson. After a few seconds she called out again. “Jackson, this is Rollins! We are in position! How copy?”
No discernable response followed yet again, and Linda shook her head as she put the radio back down. Frank looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Now what?”
“We wait and hope that Jackson heard us but either can’t reply or his reply’s getting lost in all of the…” She trailed off and turned around in her seat, looking behind at the barricade in the distance.
“What’s that?” Frank asked as he turned around, noticing the same thing she had. The sporadic fire from the northern edge of the city had stopped, and the only sounds of battle to be heard were from the attackers across the river. A few moments later, though, the situation drastically changed.
An explosive amount of fire erupted from behind the barricade as every able-bodied soldier threw all that they had into suppressing the enemy’s attack. Small arms fire focused on pinning down snipers in the building windows while large-caliber machine guns and even a few rockets spread their damage out, spraying bullets and explosions across the breadth of the area where the attackers were entrenched.
So great was the amount of fire that the enemy forces were momentarily taken aback. Most of the attackers ducked for cover, moving into back rooms of the building as they tried to find a location to stay alive. Knowing that the heavy level of suppressive fire wouldn’t last for long, Linda threw the Humvee back into gear and sent the vehicle lurching forward. The right side scraping noisily against the metal of the trucks and Frank winced at the sound, pulling away from the door for fear of it tearing off in the commotion.
The drive across the bridge took less time than Frank thought as Linda deftly wove a path back and forth both to avoid obstacles and to keep from presenting an easy target to anyone who might be watching them. Across the bridge the road diverged to the right in a long, arcing turn as it dove back down toward ground level. Linda followed the path of the road until the concrete guardrail vanished, at which point she took a hard left, crossing over through what used to be carefully manicured grass and flowerbeds. The Humvee bumped and jostled over the soft ground, throwing their heads up against the roof and then slamming them back down into the poorly-padded seats.
“Do we have to go this way?” Frank shouted over the noise of the vehicle. “There’s a perfectly good road right next to us!”
“They’re not going to stay distracted for long. We need to get back behind the buildings and find the mortar locations before they start firing at us!” Frank groaned at her reply and did his best to stay in his seat, the straps over his shoulders doing little to help.
A moment later, after an exceptionally hard thump followed by the sound of some part of the vehicle’s frame being put under enormous strain, they bounced up a short flight of stairs and passed through the space in between two of the buildings where much of the attacker’s fire had been coming from. Frank craned his head around to see through the window, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone in the buildings, but it was impossible to see between their speed and bumping along.
“Get ready, Frank!” Linda shouted at him and he glanced at her before looki
ng out through the windshield. “Mortars were coming from just beyond the back of the buildings somewhere. As soon as I stop, get your gear and get to cover. Shoot anything that moves, got it?” She looked at him and he nodded in response. “I’m serious, Frank. You have to kill anything that moves, otherwise you’re going to die.”
“I got it!” Frank replied, trying to convince her that he would be able to handle himself, though the assurance was more for his benefit than anyone else’s. He would have followed her past the gates of Hell and beyond if she asked him, so he hadn’t even blinked an eye when she pulled him along on what was rapidly starting to seem like a suicide mission. Handling himself in the field, though, in spite of his willingness to do anything to help, was a different matter.
“Let’s go, go, go!” The Humvee lurched to a stop, Linda opened her door and Frank was suddenly thrust into the middle of the fray. His hesitation and reluctance melted away, reminding him of when he had turned a corner all those… days? Weeks? Months? It felt like years ago when Sarah had sent him out to scout for supplies to save Linda’s life, and he had undergone a transformation during that time. Each day, before heading out, he felt nervous and afraid, wondering how he could possibly do the things he was being asked—no, demanded—to do. Yet every single day, without fail, as soon as he got into the thick of it, he performed flawlessly.
The change in his attitude and mindset was instantaneous. He threw off his straps and jumped out of the vehicle, dropping low as he grabbed the pistol from his leg holster and pressed his back up against the open door of the vehicle. No threats were immediately visible off to the right side of the Humvee so he kept moving, standing up and opening the back door, retrieving his pack and his rifle. The pistol went back into its holster and he flicked the switch on his rifle to single-fire.
“On me!” Linda shouted and Frank ran around the back of the Humvee, hurrying to catch up as she headed for a series of large concrete blocks behind the building filled with plants and a single large tree in each one. The smell of gunpowder grew strong as they approached the nearest block, and they both circled around the same side, slowing their approach with Linda in the lead and Frank just behind to her left.