The Captain had spoken with the Colonel's tutors the week before. The three ancient men, experienced and respected scholars in their respective fields, assured McLelland that the boy had turned a new leaf. He had studied hard, made impressive progress, and was definitely ready for the pressures and intricacies of command. The Captain had grunted, doubting the fact but reserving judgment until he saw Garza in action.
Now McLelland had information which would force the Colonel to make an important decision. He would soon know if the boy had really improved. When he had arrived in Navasota, a report from the latest reconnaissance flight had been waiting for him. The Captain now ambled up the street to the temporary headquarters to deliver its news.
The Colonel and his staff had taken up residence in the town's largest gambling hall. The old two story building was beginning to fall apart. The years had been unkind to the establishment’s once elegant façade. Cheap construction and twenty years of corrosive ash had left its clapboards cracking and its paint grimy. As McLelland approached the run down building, the Mayor tramped out through the front door. The two knew each other well. Navasota had been a frequent stop for the Captain before he had been assigned to the western borders.
The Mayor knew his town's survival largely depended on the patronage of the weekenders from Campus. He also knew that the lucrative business would quickly dry up if his settlement were to grow more dangerous and develop a reputation like that of Huntsville. To that end he frequently assisted the rangers, tipping them off when particularly violent bandits or notorious outlaws were seen in his gambling halls and brothels.
Now, with the proximity of the violent horde to the south, the weekenders' visits had slowed to a trickle, and, worse, the regular gamblers and card sharks, always a steady source of commerce for the community, had fled, taking many of the best whores with them. The town was dying, and the only cure would be to remove the cancer. His only hope was that the small army he was sheltering at great expense would be able to destroy the savages.
He knew all of this but he couldn't help growling in frustration once he was out of earshot of the Colonel and his officers. The Captain heard the growl and saw the anger on the man's thin face when he approached. He stopped, surprised. He had never seen the Mayor angry.
"That fat bastard thinks he can march in here and treat me like a fucking butler!" he muttered through clenched teeth, no longer able to hold his tongue. "I'm sorry Captain, you know you're always welcome here, but that tubby sack of shit can't leave soon enough.” He was pointing vaguely at the double doors behind him. “Excuse me, I'd love to stay and catch up, but his majesty requires fresh butter!" With that he stomped off into the warm night.
The Captain chuckled to himself, glad that he wasn't the only one annoyed by the pompous Colonel. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and pushed open the door to the smoky barroom. The Colonel's bulk filled most of the curve of a large u-shaped booth at the edge of the room. His toadies filled the remainder of the padded bench. There were two Majors and four Captains in the group. The medals and campaign ribbons on their chests were as elaborate as they were unearned. The table before them was cluttered with a half-eaten meal and a number of wine bottles, more of them empty than full. Garza looked up suddenly and spotted McLelland through the haze of cigar smoke. He beckoned him over with a flabby wave.
Knowing it would ignite the Colonel's prickly temper, the Captain couldn't resist blithely waving back and then heading straight for the bar, ignoring the summons. He ordered two fingers of whiskey from the harassed looking barman, chatted with a pair of whores, and took his time lighting a fat cigar before glancing back at the group of officers. The whole table had ceased conversation and was staring at him. The Colonel's flabby face was turning an unhealthy purple. McLelland knew insult would not go unpunished, but he considered it revenge for the mistreated Mayor.
Wearing an innocent look, he waded through the mostly empty tables and chairs toward the officers' table.
"Need I remind you that you are under my command Captain McLelland?" Garza's voice was dripping with undisguised hostility.
"Sir?" The Captain pretended innocent confusion.
"Do you need it spelled out for you?" One of the cronies, a Major with a sneer on his round, boyish face, answered for the Colonel. "Your commanding officer gestured at you to approach and you ignored him!"
The Captain ignored the sniveling boy and addressed the Colonel directly. "Ignored sir? Oh my apologies, I thought you were waving me to the bar. My mistake sir, the haze in this room must be playing tricks with my eyes."
Unsure whether McLelland was playing with him, Garza waved it off. His feathers were thoroughly ruffled, but he dreaded his father's wrath if he pushed the Captain too far. "Forget it. Do you have anything to report?"
Amused by his small victory, the Captain hid a smile and delivered his news in a business-like manner.
“Yes sir. The enemy is on the move. The RNTAF found their camp deserted when they made their last flyover. I received the report when we arrived here this morning.”
For a moment, the Colonel looked like he would make a fuss about the obvious stab at the army’s late start, but he let it pass.
“That is outstanding news, Captain. Where are they now?”
“Sir, that is unknown. We’re waiting for Captain Collier to report.”
“Unknown! Correct me if I am wrong Captain McLelland, but is it not your job to know the disposition of the enemy? I was under the impression you had men watching them!”
“We did sir, that’s the problem. I expected a report from Reid’s 3rd Rangers this afternoon, but I haven’t heard from them. Collier arrived around noon; he was down in the suburbs scouting a route for the Refinery men. I sent him straight back out to find Reid. I expect him to return tomorrow night at the earliest. I would have gone myself, but I didn’t want to leave you blind.”
The Colonel looked triumphant, “What you are saying, Captain, is that you have failed in your responsibilities; that you do not know where the enemy is?”
“What I am saying, Colonel, is that some of our men, experienced and valuable men, have failed to make a scheduled report and are therefore missing, possibly in duress. What I am saying is that we are currently blind as to the disposition of the enemy due to those missing men. My advice is to wait until we have more information before making any moves.”
The Colonel positively wriggled in pleasure now, his prodigious jowls wobbling. “Dress it up how you like, you have failed in your duties. I suspected this might happen. When my father assigned you to scout for this army, I expressed my doubts. No one can question the fact that you served the Republic well in your prime, but I am afraid that prime has passed. Your age has weakened you Captain, there’s no shame in that; all men grow old. Luckily I made precautions against such a development. We are, as it turns out, not entirely blind. Allow me to introduce Major Price, my second in command.” He gestured to the sneering, round-faced boy to his right. “When my father assigned you to us, I ordered the Major to make his own intelligence arrangements in preparation for just such an inevitability.”
The Colonel smiled patronizingly at McLelland and then turned to the Major. The Captain fumed, but held his tongue. This had clearly been planned all along; there was nothing to be gained by fighting it just yet. He was not too old to know when to pick his battles. Price cleared his throat and produced a map from the briefcase at his side.
“Werner’s loose recruiting policy allowed us to get a man on the inside almost right from the start. We’ve been getting reports on their movements for the past two weeks. The latest report, as of this evening, is that the outlaw army is advancing straight up the trade road. Their last known position was forty miles east of Hempstead.”
“And how have you been receiving these reports?” The Captain was genuinely curious. “My men would have noticed messengers coming and going.”
“Would they have, Captain?” McLelland ignored the Colone
l’s petulant jibe.
“It’s top secret of course, but it’s safe to say the communications were wireless.”
“Doubtless using technology which could help the rangers in their work.” McLelland allowed himself a growl.
“Regardless,” the Major continued, betraying a hint of annoyance, “we know perfectly well where the enemy is. If we continue on our current trajectory we will overwhelm them with our superior numbers and firepower.”
“Well said, Major.” The Colonel turned back to the Captain, “I’m issuing orders to march at dawn. We’ll continue south to Hempstead and turn east to follow the road as planned. Your rangers will take point. When your man returns, have his company take over as rearguard.”
McLelland bit back a bitter retort. “I feel it is my duty to remind you that the reinforcements from the Refinery are on the way. I recommend we wait for them to join us. Collier mapped out a direct route through the suburbs, they can be here in two days.”
“There’s no need. Major Price’s informant assures us we face no more than five hundred ill trained men. I am sure our force will be sufficient. In fact, I have already sent a dispatch to your son respectfully declining his assistance.” Colonel Garza squirmed in pleasure again at the renewed scowl on McLelland’s face. “If there’s not anything else, Captain, you’re dismissed.”
“Just one more thing, sir. Major, was there any mention of my missing ranger company in your mysterious dispatches?”
Major Price smiled, “None at all, Captain. Perhaps they stopped for dinner on the way back? I’m sure they’ll turn up.” The staff officers laughed at this.
“Very well, it seems you gentlemen have the expedition well in hand. I’ll have the kids keep a sharp lookout for me tomorrow, seeing as my eyesight ain’t what it used to be.” He delivered a curt nod and then turned without a salute and stalked out of the smoky room. The Colonel did not acknowledge his insolence. The boyish Major slapped him on the back in congratulations and proposed a toast to the coming victory. The officers cheered and drained their glasses with relish and opened more bottles. The Colonel called out for the absent Mayor, wondering where his butter was.
They toasted to victory, and then to the Colonel, and then to the Governor, and then to the Republic, and then to victory, and then to the enemy. They were forced to postpone this last toast for a few minutes while a maid cleaned the Colonel’s vomit from the table. When the mess had been cleared, they went right back at it, starting with a toast to the troops. That was followed with a toast to each of the senior officers in the army. This series drained the last of their liquor reserves, so more was requisitioned. With the ranks of empty bottles properly reinforced, the officers resumed their toasts and continued deep into the night.
Captain McLelland fumed as he made his way back to his rangers. As he had suspected from the start, the story of Garza's thorough tutelage in leadership and strategy was a farce. He had clearly shown just enough effort to placate his naive father. He was once again forsaking the counsel of more experienced men. The Captain was determined that the flippant decision would not cost good men their lives.
His rangers were scattered around the small barroom when he stomped through the door. They laid down their cards and abandoned their drinks when they saw the fury on his face. They moved to settle their tabs but he waved them back to their tables.
Deb moved to his side, planting a quick peck his cheek, his coarse stubble rough on her lips. She risked a coy smile.
"You look like you need a drink, my love."
****
And so, in the morning, they marched. The 1st Rangers sped out of the gates at dawn, ash rising in a plume, behind new UTVs. The armored vehicles trundled out shortly after, carrying an assortment of groggy staff officers. Their revelry had continued into the early hours of the morning.
The UTV's were new, an unexpectedly generous gift from a Governor who had known all too well that he would need the Captain's support. They were four seater, four wheel drive ATV's; sleek cages of tube steel suspended on oversized shocks. The engineers had officially designated them ‘Heavy-duty Off-road Reconnaissance Scout Vehicle’, or HORSV, but the rangers had quickly begun referring to them as ‘horseys’.
The big motors, much too powerful for the small loads they shifted, were heavily muffled, emitting no more than a gentle growl, and were statically filtered from the gritty fog of ash that was thrown up by the thickly knobbed tires. They were perfect for the Captain’s work: silent, capable, and immensely fast. Each ranger company was to be issued one of the three which had been produced, but for now they were all his. As the troop sped down the dusty highway, McLelland grinned into the rushing wind and grudgingly forgave the Governor the tiniest bit.
Deb was at the wheel next to him, laughing in delight at every surge of acceleration. The two blond girls in the rear seats, the young sniper team that Deb had finally agreed to bring along, smiled at the Captain when he glanced at them in the rearview. Legs was driving the vehicle behind them, his seat adjusted all the way forward to the stops to reach the pedals. Grumps and Mason were his passengers, their huge frames playing hell with the suspension. The scouts were in the third HORSV, with the twins in the back.
An hour later, they skidded to a halt a mile ahead of the main column. Tom Collier was sitting at the side of the road, his face grim, his bicycle propped in the ash next to him. He was a huge man, six feet of pure hulking muscle, though he had grown a gut in the last few years. Middle age was catching up to him. His hairline was receding and his waistline was advancing. He had taken to drinking heavily after he had lost his wife and children to the deadly strain of influenza which had burned through the region three years before. McLelland knew he was a competent ranger when he was sober, and a gambler when he was drunk. The outlaw army which had gone unnoticed in the middle of his territory was a testament to the latter fact.
The Captain's accusation of shortened patrols, muttered in jest in the Governor's office the week before, was not far from the truth. As their Captain had crawled further into the bottle, the 2nd Rangers had begun spending more time in towns and less time on the road. The discovery of Werner's band had sobered him quickly. He had covered his embarrassment by attacking his job with a new gusto. He had been riding his rangers hard, himself harder.
"I’m surprised to see you back so soon.” McLelland hopped down from the lead vehicle. The two Captains shook hands and exchanged news. There had been no sign of Werner or his men at the camp near the burned warehouse. McLelland told him of Price’s secret informant and how there Refinery reinforcements had been called off. Collier chuckled at that.
"I guess the Colonel wants all the glory for himself."
“I’m sure he does, just like I’m sure he’ll dodge the blame when Werner tears him a new asshole and this campaign turns to shit.” McLelland felt bitter at the thought. The Governor’s son would crash and burn and good men would die because of it, but the bastard would no doubt have a few more medals on his chest when it was all done.
Serious now, the Captain lowered his voice so his young rangers couldn't hear. "Any sign of Reid?"
Collier shook his head. "Nothing good. Plenty of tracks, plenty of blood. No bodies, theirs or ours."
"We have to assume the worst then. Damn, I wouldn't have thought Werner would be able to get the drop on Buddy Reid."
The two Captains paused for a moment, reflecting on the devastating loss. Reid's 3rd Rangers were just as capable as their own companies. They had kept the Republic's southern border pacified for years, holding the line at the steep banked Colorado. They had finally met their match in Werner's savages, and the fact made the two surviving ranger Captains ponder their own mortality for a moment.
Collier broke the silence first, "So where does my lot fit in, now that we’ve been rendered obsolete by this mysterious spy?"
"The good Colonel requests that you form a rearguard.” McLellan rolled his eyes.
Collier chuckled again. "I
can do that. We'll wait here and fall in at the rear when they pass."
The two veterans made their farewells as the first Bradley crawled into view down the road. McLelland waited for the column to catch up and then took point again. He gave the APC driver a friendly wave.
They made Hempstead by dusk. The settlement was smaller than the gambling town they had left that morning. It was a market village, a cluster of huts where farmers gathered to sell their surpluses each week. Every Saturday, dusty men and women would spread their wares in a patchwork warren of tents and kiosks. The tightly packed stalls huddled in the shade of a small interchange which had once served to transfer vehicles at high speed between US 290 and SH 6. Mostly they sold stunted fruits and vegetables, teased from the earth in small plots which they had scraped from the ash by hand. There were insufficient billets in the small hamlet, Colonel Garza led the column up onto the interchange and they made their exhausted bivouac on the raised curve of the old overpass. Captain McLelland had to remind the company commanders to set their pickets.
The next morning, they made another early start. Before departing, Major Price announced that the enemy had made camp just ten miles east, in the ruins of a huge retail center on the north side of the road. Both Captains knew the place well. The cluster of buildings had once been a bustling outlet mall, but now served as welcome shelter to weary travelers.
Once the Major had walked away, Collier whistled to himself. “We’re in for a real treat if they decide to dig in there.” Most of the buildings in the complex had cinder block facades lining their rooftops. The old shopping center could easily be made into a formidable chain of fortresses. He and McLelland shared a look and then headed to their respective ends of the column to begin the day’s march.
Ash: Rise of the Republic Page 15