by Ryan King
They are going to be a problem, Givens told himself not for the first time. Without Brazen, the thirty of so surviving Brothers For Life had banded together. These hardened men had already intimidated refugees out of their meager food supplies and beat anyone who resisted. Givens and his seven men were the only element capable of keeping these predators in check.
"Where are we going, mommy?" asked a little girl walking to Givens left.
"Someplace safe and warm," the woman walking beside her said while eyeing Givens. "Don't worry darling, nothing bad is going to happen to you."
"Get the hell out of the way," said a cruel voice from the right.
Givens turned to see Jacko push a shaking man off the road and into the ditch on the side. The man fell in a heap and didn't move. Jacko held his pistol out and in his hand. He looked at Givens with a slight smile. The men with him were watching too. A challenge.
Not here, thought Givens.Not yet.He turned back forward and kept walking. They would be able to get the people out of the cold soon.
"That's what I thought," Jacko said loudly in his direction and the men with him laughed.
Gritting his teeth, Givens kept walking.
*******
The town of Eviston did not greeted the swarms of starving refugees with open arms. There were arguments, then fights, then death. Givens tried to keep a handle on things, but it was impossible to control thousands of desperate people. Especially with Jacko and his thugs leading the charge. Givens knew he must do something about them.
Sergeant Booker hurried up in the dark and squatted beside Givens. "They're all in a house on the corner. Looks like they killed the couple who lived there. They're evidently partying inside. Music going loud and they got a hold of some alcohol somewhere."
"Any sentries?" Givens asked.
"Just one at the front door," Booker answered. "He's drinking too."
"Good," Givens said. "You take three men around to the back of the house and make sure no one gets away. We'll go in the front. I'll give you ten minutes to get into position."
"You sure you don't want to talk to them? Maybe give 'em an option to go away peacefully?"
Givens shook his head. "They're never going to do that. This is the best way. They're all together for once and we won't have the potential for hostages or friendly fire."
Booker nodded and strode away into the dim shadows.
The remaining three soldiers moved up close to Givens. "I'll take out the guard, then we stack up. Remember how we used to practice this. Nothing has changed. Handle your sector, trust your team, and keep moving. We'll repeat until the whole house is cleared."
"What about prisoners?" asked one of the men.
"We can't," Givens answered. "We're eight men and they're thirty. They're not likely to surrender and we can't take time to tie people up."
"Just kill them?" asked another. "Even if they want to surrender?"
"Yes," Givens hissed. "They made their bed. You've seen what they do to people. You identify a target, you engage the target, then you move on to the next target. That's it. Everyone got it?"
They nodded silently.
"Okay, follow me."
They crept down the dark street past quiet houses, some of which were now filled with former Paducah residents. Soon they could hear music and laughter.
"Where are they getting electricity?" someone asked from behind Givens.
"Probably stole some batteries," Givens whispered. "Now be quiet."
He stopped them behind a hedge and peeked out. A small one-story house with a wide front porch greeted them. Two dark heaps that could only be bodies lay in front of the house. At first Givens couldn't find what he was looking for in the darkness, then he spotted movement as the guard took a drink.
"Wait here," he told the other men handing one of them his rifle. "I'll whistle you forward after I take out the guard. If things go badly, go ahead and rush forward. Try not to shoot unless you have to."
They nodded and crouched down low against the hedges nearly invisible in the night.
Givens slipped around the shrubbery and crept to the base of the porch. Moving slowly, he made his way step by careful step to the front of the house. He was nearly upon the guard when he stepped on a twig that cracked during a break in the loud music.
"Who's there?" the man slurred swinging a shotgun around wildly. The loud music started up again.
"Just me," said Givens stepping out of the darkness. "Jacko sent me to get more booze. You're gonna love this shit."
"Really?" the guard said lowering his shotgun. "Is that you Reed?"
Givens rushed forward and shoved his knife up into the chin and brain of the man while grabbing him around the torso and easing the dead weight to the ground. He pulled the blade out and cleaned it on the guard's shirt. Looking around, he whistled softly.
Three shadows separated themselves from the darkness and hurried forward. The first man handed Givens his assault rifle.
"Everyone remember how we do this?" he asked, trying to ease his racing heart. Givens had conducted hundreds of room clearing missions in Iraq and had hoped he'd never have to do it again. It was by far the most frightening and dangerous thing he had ever done in his life. "Okay, stack up," he finally said.
Givens squatted down by the front door his hand on the doorknob. He felt the other three men crouch down tightly behind him.
"On three," he whispered. "One...two...three!" Givens twisted the knob and threw the door open while rushing through crouching low. The candlelight and the noise blinded him, but he immediately swung to the right hugging the wall and felt the second man come in behind him and going left. Givens saw a man rush at him and he fired center of mass and felt the thump as the body hit the floor in front of him heavily. He next shot a man near the window and then one trying to escape into the kitchen.
Givens made it to the corner on the right and scanned the room. He saw perhaps twelve surprised men who had, until a few seconds ago, been drinking and lounging on chairs and couches. The second man in Givens' sector was making his way to the opposite corner, shooting as he went. The third man made it to the left corner and the final soldier was in the door guarding their rear. The shots were coming more frequently and he could even hear some from out back where Booker's men were set up. Givens kept shooting impulsively, only making sure he kept his shots away from the sectors his men occupied. He heard the bolt slam back on an empty magazine and reloaded.
"Clear!" yelled someone in the room.
Looking around, Givens saw that it was true, but he heard cursing and screaming from adjacent rooms. He checked the two closets in the room quickly to make sure they were not hiding anyone and then he crouched by the door leading into the kitchen. His three soldiers stacked up behind him.
They rushed through the doorway and several men were waiting for them behind an overturned table, firing at them as they came through the open doorway. Givens fired frantically in order to take attention away from his men who only needed a fraction of a second to get out of the death zone of the doorway. He shot at the table and the bullets went right through the thin particle board. His men engaged another gang member hiding behind the edge of the refrigerator and another who attempted to climb out a window. There was an open door that led into the back yard where a half dozen dead or dying bodies already lay.
"Stack up," said Givens moving to the door on their right, which led to a hallway. They methodically cleared two bedrooms and a bathroom, killing five more men. Givens realized that some of the gang members were probably escaping out side windows, since he'd only posted his soldiers at the rear of the house, though he knew there was nothing he could do about it now.
Approaching the final room at the end of the hall, he saw the reflection from a candle as it flickered. He heard moaning and whimpering. Givens stuck his head quickly inside and then back out. What he'd seen made him grind his teeth. Jacko was standing there holding a knife to the throat of a naked woman tied to a bed. H
e had been smiling in Givens' direction. No one else was in the room.
"Watch my back," he said rushing into the room and trying to scan every shadowy corner at once. One man followed him in. Seeing the room empty of other threats, Givens pointed his rifle at Jacko.
"Easy now," said the big man with a menacing smile. "You don't want any harm...well, anymore harm to come to this young girl here do you?"
Givens looked and saw a teenage girl who might have been fourteen. She was blond and naked. Tied spread eagle on the bed her bones jutted up out of her skin like sharp edges. She was covered in bruises, blood, and dried semen.
Her wild eyes met his and she made an animal noise around the gag in her mouth.
Jacko saw him looking. "I ain't selfish. You can have a go at her if you want. Rest of your boys too."
Givens pulled the trigger. Jacko must have seen it coming because he moved at the last minute, but the bullet caught him in the shoulder and spun him around, his knife leaving a line of blood on the girl's neck. Givens rushed over and put his boot on Jacko's neck as he looked at the girl. Blood trickled down her neck slowly instead of spurting.
"Cut her loose," Givens told the man behind him. "Get her a blanket or something."
"What about him? You gonna finish him off or what."
Givens pressed his boot down slowly on the man's neck. He'd had to kill men in war, but he had never felt the righteous anger that filled him now. A simple death would not be enough.
"I got something else in mind for him," Givens finally said.
"I thought we weren't taking prisoners."
"Oh, he's not going to be a prisoner," Givens said through gritted teeth. "Something has to be done. There has to be an accounting for this."
"Piss on you," said Jacko from the floor.
Givens nodded. "I think I'm going to make an example out of you. When people see it, they will never forget and I bet it will make people think twice before doing what you and your men have done."
"You going to kill him," asked Booker who was now standing the door.
"Yes, but he's going to meet his end in a way that no one on this earth has seen in almost five hundred years. Tie him up."
Givens turned and walked out wondering if he would really have the resolve to go through with what he planned.
Then he looked at the young girl and the anguish and shame on her face.
He would find a way.
Chapter 5 - The Package
David figured he was going to get in trouble, but he didn't care. He'd done everything he could to secure the dam and then just sat there. Waiting. Doing nothing while WTR and backstabbing JP forces attacked all along the west and south. Fortunately, the east and north were secure thanks to the electricity-for-protection deal Harold Buchanan had worked out with their Kentucky neighbors.
Still it irked him that he was out of the fight. He'd gotten reports that the New Harvest defensive line had fallen and after a day of mad retreat had reestablished itself twenty miles north. The western border was holding thanks to Kentucky Lake, but he knew that General Butch Matthews was considering blowing the bridges, which was an unpopular option knowing they would likely never be rebuilt. Even without the bridges, the LBL defenders had to constantly watch for canoes and boats slipping over in the night with saboteurs and infiltrators.
And here David was sitting at the dam watching water turn turbines.
"You sure this is okay?" asked one of the four soldiers from the dam that David had with him.
"Of course," answered David creeping through the snowy trees. They had crossed from the dam over to the opposite shore in a small boat and were now moving in a line into thicker underbrush. "Just a little reconnaissance, that's all. Done it a thousand times. Nothing to be worried about."
"But our orders are to guard the dam," said another.
"Actually," answered David, "your orders are whatever the hell I say they are. Now stop being so narrow-minded. It would be nice to know about any threat to the dam before it actually arrived, don't you think?"
There were several reluctant grumbles of assent.
"Okay, then," said David. "Shut up about it. I'd really like to sneak up on anyone out here if you all don't mind."
The men sulked in silence, which suited David fine. He knew his chances of intercepting anyone were slim, but he just couldn't sit still any longer. Besides, maybe Alexandra was out here somewhere in trouble and he could help her.
Alexandra, he thought.What the heck is she thinking? I hope she's wrong and there's nothing out here because if there is she's likely to get herself killed.
He shoved the thought aside. The idea of her coming to harm disturbed him in a new and unusual way that was difficult to explain.
His thoughts were interrupted by one of the soldiers behind him falling in the snow and cursing loudly.
"Would you please at least try to be quiet," said David disgusted.
"No need for that," said a voice to their front. "We already know you're here."
David lifted his rifle slowly and eased forward through the thick snow-covered branches. "And just who iswe?"
"Come on forward and you'll see," the voice answered. "We're almost ready anyway."
Easing into a clearing, David saw two men working intently on a large rucksack. Another stood in front of them casually staring in David's direction. David pointed his rifle at the man.
"It's too late for that," the man answered. "Might as well have your men come on out we've got you covered."
Starting to chuckle, David spotted a slight movement to his right and then another to his left. He soon picked out three others, carefully camouflaged in the snow.These guys know what they're doing, he thought slowly lowering his rifle. "Men, come on forward."
David saw with approval that only two of his men came out into the clearing.
"All of them," said the man in front of David with a knowing smile.
The remaining two soldiers stepped forward out of the woods.
"Okay, now lay your weapons on the ground," he said.
"I don't think so," David answered. "We never give up our weapons and you'll just shoot us anyway."
The man shook his head. "If you lay your weapons down I promise you we won't take them. I can also promise you none of my men will shoot you as long as you don't try to shoot us. But if you refuse to lay your weapons down we will have no choice."
David thought for a moment and then unslung the rifle from across his chest and set it carefully in the snow.
The man gave him a pointed look at David's belt.
Sighing, David pulled the pistol out of its holster and set it beside his rifle. His men followed his lead. "So, you want to tell me what you're doing out here, who you are, that sort of thing?"
The man looked at the two men working on the rucksack before answering. "I’m Lieutenant Corbin and my men and I are here on a special mission. A mission of peace, to end the war between us."
"You're from Tennessee?" asked David.
"Actually no," answered Corbin, "not originally. I was in Alabama when the world went to shit and found me way up here."
"Mission of peace huh," said David. "Would it have anything to do with that rucksack your men seem so interested in?"
Corbin smiled. "Yes it does. In that bag is a package which will stop the fighting and let us go about the business of rebuilding civilization."
"Some sort of manifesto, a radio to broadcast appeals to hope and love, Pandora's box perhaps?" asked David.
"Perhaps," Corbin nodded and turned to the men. "Are we ready?"
"Yes, sir," one of them answered.
"Okay," he said. "Initiate sequence."
One of the men detached a keyboard and began typing in numbers and letters from a laminated orange card in his lap. The other watched carefully while consulting what looked like a military manual.
"What's the plan here?" asked David. "You've come an awful long way to send a radio broadcast."
"This is
n't a radio," Corbin answered.
"I'm done playing games," said David. "Either you're going to tell us what it is or you're not."
Corbin looked at the men again and then nodded seeming to make up his mind. He drew his pistol out of his belt and held it casually at his side. "I'll tell you, but before I do please let me remind you that my men have their guns on you. Any sudden movement and they will be forced to kill you. Do you understand?"
"Yes," said David between gritted teeth.
"In that rucksack is a one kiloton tactical yield nuclear device from the Milan Depot. Only about one sixteenth the power of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, but that's part of its appeal. The effects will be relatively limited."
David realized his mouth was hanging open. "Are you out of your mind? You'll kill us all."
"Oh, most certainly," Corbin answered, "but this will also destroy the hydroelectric dam."
"Why in the world would you want to do that?" asked David.
"Because it is a source of contention between our peoples. Once it is gone, we are all on equal footing and can get on with working together. You people are holding onto a relic of the past. It isn't healthy and it definitely isn't good for our future prospects."
David's fists were clenched at his sides. "You can't do that."
Corbin must have seen the look in David's eyes because he pointed his pistol at him. "I must do this. It is our mission."
"We're ready, sir," said one of the men by the rucksack.
"Go ahead," Corbin answered.
The two men each turned switches on top of the box and two red lights went to green. They then each reached into a small depression on the side of the box and pulled out what looked like electronic game joysticks, but they only contained one button on top with a safety lever covering the button. The two men nodded to each other and began walking apart pulling out a cable attached to the joystick. When they were each about ten feet from the rucksack the cable stopped and both men looked at Corbin and nodded.