“Sir,” began Ted again, unstrapping his helmet. “We—”
“I realize that Lieutenant Larsson here is not used to the Army way of life, so I’ll cut him some slack. But I don’t ever want to hear either of you question me in front of anyone—let alone the command staff,” he said with a tired gesture towards the door. “If you disagree with my orders, you talk to me in private. Understood?”
Erik felt his cheeks flush. The heat radiating from his face made him look down.
“Son, look at me when I’m talking to you,” said Captain Williams in a not-unkind voice.
Erik looked up. “I’m sorry—I mean, yes, sir,” he said. To be honest he wasn’t sure what else to say so he sat in silence and watched his commanding officer. Not for the first time, he began to regret joining the Army.
“Sir, leaving aside the Lieutenant’s etiquette,” said Ted in a too-proper, formal voice Erik had never heard before. “The Russians are moving inland from the coast. We’ve got a heavily armored advance element on our asses—no more than 4 hours behind us.”
Captain Williams collapsed into his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. He glanced at the papers strewn about in front of him. Erik watched the man pick up a random report and adjust the distance the paper was from his eyes before he started reading.
“That’s bad news, Major. But unfortunately, not the worst of it. This report here informs me that what you boys have been dealing with is just a splinter off the main trunk. The combined Russian-Cuban army is rolling north through the center of the state. Word is, there’s been an on-going air battle south of here. Air National Guard has been giving them hell, but we’re just plain outnumbered. They have more planes, more missiles, more everything.”
“This is our country, sir, how is that possible? I mean, even with all the problems we’re facing, this isn’t Bosnia for cryin’ out loud. It’s America,” blurted Erik.
The Captain looked at Erik and smiled sadly. He picked up a report and scanned the top page. “Son, most of our forces are still overseas, spread all over the damn world. They’re trying to come back—but only a few units have made it back so far. From what I hear, they had to hijack airliners.” He looked at Erik over the top of the report. “Can you believe that shit?”
“Where, sir?” asked Ted. “Where are the Russians headed? Tampa?”
“Here,” said Captain Williams, dropping the report with a flourish. “Orlando.”
Ted’s eyes went round. “Jesus Christ, sir. We’ve got to get the civilians out of here!” He jumped to his feet.
“Sit down, Major,” Captain Williams said without looking up. When Ted remained standing, Captain Williams glanced at him and said in a quiet, dangerous tone, “Sit down, soldier.”
Ted sat, but the glare of defiance on his face more than proclaimed his insult at being called a ‘soldier’.
“I’ve been ordered by Colonel West to hold the eastern suburbs of Orlando and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. The safest thing for our civilians is to remain close to us, in the outskirts. The Russians are coming from the south—” he looked at Erik, “and the east. But we have reinforcements arriving right now from Tampa.”
“But…I thought we barely had Tampa contained. From the riots, I mean. If we pull off troops, the rebels will just take over, right?” asked Erik. “Sir?”
“Probably,” muttered the Captain. “But the Colonel and his superiors think otherwise. So, orders are orders.”
“But…you’re the commanding officer here!” said Erik. “You’re the one in charge—”
“I appreciate your respect for my rank, Lieutenant, but I assure you, just because I am in command of this outpost and the scouts who man it, I am just a small cog in the machine.”
“Captain, our families—”
“My family is south of here,” said Captain Williams. “In no man’s land. Do not think for a second I don’t know what’s going to happen when Ivan gets here. Do you think I have no sympathy for your situation, Major?” His voice, though stern, held an edge of understanding to it. Erik looked down at the helmet in his hands and simply wished to hold Brin again.
“Look,” sighed the Captain. “I’m going to need every man I’ve got to do this—I believe we can and we will hold Orlando. And you’re one of the best I’ve got left, Major.” He gazed at Ted for a moment. “So I’ll do this for you—take an hour or two and go see your families. Make sure they know where the safe zones are and say your goodbyes. Do what you need to, but get your heads on straight—” he looked at Erik. “Both of you. Then get your asses into the bush and find those Russians before they find us. I heard about your delaying action in Cocoa Beach. Impressive work, gentlemen. I need you to do it again.”
Ted stood up. “That’s it then? We dig in and fight? Hold the line and all that bullshit?”
Captain Williams replied with a wan smile. “Because you used to be a Marine, I’ll let that slide, Major. But in effect, the answer to your question is yes. With the reinforcements from Tampa, we should be able to stop the Russian advance here at Orlando. At least long enough for the main line troops to arrive from Europe.”
Erik watched the range of emotions ripple across Ted’s face. From incredulity, to anger, to confusion, to acceptance. Finally, Ted nodded. “Okay. Come on, lieutenant. Let’s go dig in.”
“What?” Erik said, getting to his feet. “That’s it? We’re just going to go stand out there and let the damn Russians roll over us? We’re going to be killed—they got armored personnel carriers, drones with missiles, a bunch of guys on foot—”
“Lieutenant,” said the Captain in a warning tone.
Erik continued, anger driving him forward. “They’ll kill us if we sit out there,” he said pointing toward the east. “What the hell is the good in that? What about my wife?”
Captain Williams slammed both hands down on his desk as he stood up. “What about her? Your families have been a drain on our supplies since I agreed to take you on! Face it, Larsson—you joined the Army! You are no longer free to express your concerns about your family to me or anyone else! I have given you a direct order—now get the hell out of here and see to your duties before I have you slapped in irons for insubordination!”
Erik stared at the older man, his fists clenched in impotent rage. He had never felt so trapped before in all his life. To think his wife and Ted’s family were so close, just a mile or so away, and yet he and Ted were going to go in the opposite direction to stare death in the face…with no hope of survival…
Ted dragged Erik from the office. Erik’s heated gaze never left Captain William’s face. The man had changed, Erik realized, from the laconic soldier who had first shown up at the gates of the Freehold in the early days of the crisis. He was older, more tired now. The door shut and Erik was once again in the swirling storm of activity that was the outpost command center.
After navigating the bustling command center they stepped out into the bright Florida sunshine and stood there in front of their M-ATV for a moment. Erik put his helmet back on, suddenly wanting to feel the reassuring weight of the protective covering on his head. It took every ounce of his mettle to keep from just pushing past Pinner and taking the wheel of their vehicle so he could drive straight to Brin. The urge to flee north had never been so strong. He began to weigh his options. Would a charge of desertion really matter up north where no one knew what the truth was?
“This isn’t right,” Erik said through gritted teeth. “This is all wrong, man, and you know it.”
“Of course I know it,” said Ted with a laugh. “We’re in the Army—things are supposed to be fucked up.”
“How’d it go, sirs?” asked Pinner, leaning against the side of the M-ATV.
Ted walked over and drummed his fingers on the hood. “Well, about as I expected. We’re up the creek and about to throw our only paddle overboard.”
“That good, huh?” asked Pinner as he examined his sidearm. He slapped a fully loaded magazine into his
pistol’s handle and checked the chamber before re-holstering it.
Erik paced like a caged animal in front of the M-ATV. “We can’t just drive out there and get ourselves killed. I don’t want to die for nothing—and you know that’s all we’ll accomplish. Hell we almost died already.”
Ted snorted. “Trust me, I don’t want to die either.”
“I want to make the other bastard die,” muttered Pinner. “That’s the only way to survive a war.”
Erik paused, hands on his hips. “Well? We’re just going to drive out east of here and go hide in the bushes, waiting for the Russians to show up? So we can, what? Take pot-shots at them and hope they don’t use that drone of theirs to drop a missile on our heads? What the fuck, man? We need to get the hell out of here. Now.”
Pinner crossed his arms and observed Erik through squinted eyes. “Sir, I think they hang you for that. It’s called desertion. And we’re at war…”
“Erik, calm down,” said Ted. He put a hand on Erik’s shoulder. He motioned for him to not talk so loud. “Look, I’m just as frustrated and mad about this as you are—but Pinner’s right, you can’t go spouting off about your opinions. Like Captain Williams said, we’re in the Army now. There’s no quitting. Not at a time like this.”
“Jesus, why the hell did I ever agree to this?” said Erik as he slumped against the side of the still-warm M-ATV. “Are we ever going to see our families again?”
Sergeant Pinner smiled, “Welcome to the long line of soldiers, Lieutenant. Men have been saying those two statements for as long as there have been armies. You’re now part of the brotherhood.”
Ted chuckled ruefully and glanced up into the blue sky and squinted in the sunlight. His body went tense. “You know? On second thought, I don’t care what Captain Williams said—I think we better go find the girls.”
Erik looked up. “What makes you say that?” Hope began to blossom in his chest that he would at least get to hold Brin one more time.
“Because this invasion is gonna get ugly real quick and we need to make sure they know what to do when the shit hits the fan.”
Erik snorted. “If the shit hasn’t hit the fan by now, I don’t want to know when it does. You don’t think we can stop them, do you?” Erik could feel his heart beating faster and sweat starting to form on his forehead. The instinct to run was almost completely overpowering. All he could think about was getting to Brin and getting her to safety. Somewhere north of Orlando. Way north.
Ted looked at Erik. “Stop the Russians? No. Not with the men and supplies we’ve got. You saw what we’re up against—and that was just a scouting party. If the Captain’s right and there’s a larger force coming up through the middle of the state…”
Shouting erupted around them as soldiers scurrying about their business began to stop and look up. A low, nearly silent rumble drifted on the slight autumn breeze through the outpost. Erik noticed the silence coming from inside the command hut for the first time and followed Ted’s gaze up into the sky. Somewhere in the distance an old tornado siren started its mournful wail. The sound sent a shiver down Erik’s spine.
As his eyes adjusted to the glare from the sun, Erik saw contrails in the sky. White lines slicing the brilliant blue of the dome above—lots of them. All coming from the south, all with a small black shape with long wings at the front. The planes were recognizable as such, but they weren’t American. The stark utilitarianism of their design screamed foreign aircraft.
“Yeah,” said Ted, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched the planes. “I don’t think we can stop them.”
IT WAS A SLAUGHTER, Aleksei,” said Colonel Doskoy’s voice over the speaker in the command BTR. “The Americans sank every vessel but one and did not even bother to render assistance. Wholesale murder. The worst part is the loss of a directed-energy weapon bound for New York. It will be a major setback for our forces in the north, but of little consequence to us at the moment.”
“What are my orders, Colonel?” asked Major Strogolev through clenched teeth. He wanted to get busy doing something before he broke the radio transmitter in his hands.
“Moscow has changed our priorities. No longer are we to merely hold Miami and the south. We are to push forward and crush the Americans. Reinforcements are en route from home, so it will take a few days. In the meantime, I want you to help distract the Americans near Orlando.”
“Of course, Colonel.”
“Our reconnaissance drones have returned video of American convoys leaving Tampa, heading east. We must conclude they know we’re coming. They will try to shore up their defenses. You are to engage them on the east side of Orlando and draw their attention. Don’t let them get comfortable, do not let them dig in. If you keep them tied up for just 24 hours, I will arrive from the south with the main force by sunset tomorrow. Then these cowboys will learn how Russians fight a war.”
“What about air cover?” asked Strogolev.
“Do not worry about that, Major. We have attained air superiority. They still have a decent attack capability, but they no longer roam their own skies with impunity.”
We’ll see how long that lasts, Strogolev told himself. They are not likely to give up control of their skies so quickly—I don’t care how many planes we throw at them.
“Mother Russia will be proud of us this day!” said the colonel. “Now go and show some initiative, Strogolev—win some glory for yourself before the real campaign begins. When we head north and enter Georgia, we will encounter some stiffer opposition. They have had time to entrench themselves, these cowboys.”
“It will be done, Comrade Colonel. We will be victorious.”
“That’s the spirit, Aleksei! Do your family proud! Base out.”
Strogolev tossed the handset down in disgust and fumed in silence for a moment, staring at the plain steel interior of his BTR. He obsessed over the American fleet destroying unarmed U.N. vessels on a mission to bring the rogue American assets scattered around the globe to heel. These cowboys are truly insane, he thought. They are acting like mad dogs—attacking anything and anyone that gets too near.
That thought made him reconsider his options. A cornered animal could prove to be most dangerous, indeed. And he had already seen firsthand what the local civilian population was capable of accomplishing. That bridge explosion had been impressive. The American military, if backed into a corner, could potentially have devastating effects on their mission.
We must be cautious not to over-expose ourselves. They will take every advantage of us if given half the chance. I would.
“What are your orders, sir?” asked Gregor from the open hatch of the BTR.
Strogolev sighed and climbed out of the armored vehicle into the bright semi-tropical sunlight. The command staff came to attention and waited patiently. Strogolev looked around and considered his options. The Colonel had said to invest the east side of Orlando—to keep the Americans busy. But he had also told him to take the initiative.
“Brothers,” said Strogolev in his most solemn voice. “I have had bad news from Moscow. In support of the United Nations, a fleet of commercial and civilian ships tried to convince an American carrier and its fleet to stand down—out in the middle of the Atlantic. They were all slaughtered, almost to a man. Over a thousand Russians died…” Strogolev had no idea how many had died, but it never hurt to fire up the troops with a little embellishment.
The ripple of anger and murmuring helped make Strogolev’s mind up for him. He knew what the plan was going to be now. “To that end, Moscow has changed our mission—we are to lunch a punitive campaign against these nekulturny cowboys and teach them that they cannot killed unarmed Russian citizens without repercussions.”
A ragged cheer went up from his officers. Strogolev smiled. “We have been ordered to attack the city of Orlando. The Americans are using it as a base of operations and as part of a defensive line that stretches across this state.” He squatted down and put his finger into the sun-warmed, sandy dirt at his fee
t. The officers gathered closer to watch.
Strogolev drew a rough outline of Florida and a slashed it in half west to east. He made an impression in the dirt for Tampa, one for Orlando, and another at the southern tip for Miami. He drew a line from Miami to Orlando. “Colonel Doskoy is bringing our main forces north from Miami—the Cubans will control the southern part of the state. We will attack from the east and keep the Americans occupied until Colonel Doskoy can arrive.”
“But Major, the city is so large—so spread out…”
“Yes,” said Strogolev, nodding in agreement. He stood and dusted his hands off. “We are too few in number to think we can draw the attention of the remaining American forces in Florida.”
“So how can we keep them distracted? Won’t they see through us?” asked the vehicle commander.
“They would—but we will give them something else to look at. We will attack using incendiary rounds and try to set fire to as much of eastern Orlando as possible.”
“They have been without power and water now since the beginning of the summer,” observed one of the junior officers. The group murmured to itself.
“Then we will start a firestorm that will burn Orlando to the ground,” said Major Strogolev.
IF YOU CAN STOP feeling sorry for yourself for a moment, I could use a hand,” said Ted in a voice that Erik knew was meant to be friendly yet sounded anything but.
Erik turned away from his binoculars and looked over his shoulder at Ted. The ex-Marine was trying to hold their ultra-light drone steady in the stiff breeze that whistled past them as they sat on top of the building that they had chosen for an outpost.
Erik crouch-walked over to Ted and helped hold the little toy-airplane device while he got the engine started and checked the electronics.
Sic Semper Tyrannis Page 10