Autumn (Four Seasons Book 1)

by Robert Sullivan

  “I can’t go yet because I’m still wanted by the Fed, so this will have to be your operation,” Jared said. “I want this fucking over with while we have the chance.”

  Greg and Zach were in Carmel, waiting for news that the Black Hand was moving out. Despite their weeks of planning and setting up the forest for their trap, they were still nervous. The plan would not work if Jared sent the full weight of the Black Hand to bear against them. They needed an accurate count of the forces that would be arrayed against them before Greg would decide if they would spring their trap or not.

  “Zach, be honest,” Greg said suddenly. “What’re the odds of this actually working?”

  “It depends on how many people they send out,” Zach said. “We have an excellent chance of taking them out if they send a medium sized force. If they sent too little or too many, then we will run into problems.”

  Greg’s phone rang. He picked it up quickly and saw that it was Eric. He took a deep breath and answered it. “Are they moving out?”

  “There’s been a partial mobilization,” Eric said. “We aren’t sending everyone like he did against Staten Island. Jared’s only sending his personal hit squad under the command of somebody else. Everyone else is standing down, including Jared himself. I think they are just now leaving though so you have some time before they get there.”

  “Thanks Eric,” Greg replied relieved. “We’ll let you know how this goes.”

  “Be careful Greg,” Eric cautioned. “There’s no shame in just retreating. These are some of the most vicious bastards in the Black Hand and they’re dying for a chance to get back at you for humiliating them over that gold.”

  “We’re aware,” Greg replied. “Just keep your head down for now and wait for my return.”

  Greg hung up and turned to Zach. “They’re sending out Jared’s hit squad.”

  “Is Jared coming himself?” Zach asked, intrigued.

  “No,” Greg replied. “I guess there’s too much heat on him still or something.”

  “How long?” Zach asked.

  “Eric sounded like they were just leaving,” Greg explained.

  “Ninety minutes then,” Zach said, nodding. “We need to make the final preparations.”

  Zach whistled, calling his adjutant David over. David had been promoted to Captain in the wake of Zach being elevated to Lieutenant Colonel. “Set the fuses,” Zach told him. “We have ninety minutes to contact.”

  “Yes sir,” David replied. He turned and pointed at some Continental soldiers idling nearby and said, “You four with me. We’ve got to finish the trap.”

  The five of them disappeared into the woods. The bulk of the Continental forces were set up north of the trap zone, though some were sitting on the flanks as well. Zach wanted to lure the Black Hand into a box filled with bullets and bombs, either killing or capturing as many as possible. The Continental forces were comprised of Zach’s soldiers; the spy ring had been told to stay in New York since attacking the Black Hand would blow their cover.

  After some time, Greg’s nervousness began to grow. It was a dangerous game that his Continentals were playing and Greg had never ordered men in a battle before. He had never even played video games to that effect either. This was an entirely new experience for him, as firing a gun at another human being had once been as well.

  “Greg are you okay?” Zach asked. “You’re a little green.”

  It took a moment for Greg to respond. “I never thought I’d actually be doing this,” Greg replied. “I mean, I know we’ve talked about it forever, you know, fighting the Black Hand, but I never thought about meeting them in open battle.”

  Zach sighed. “I had hoped, when I first joined, that we would have been able to avoid that. But since the Fed dumped this fight on us, I knew it was only a matter of time.”

  “Do you get nervous before a fight?” Greg asked.

  “Not since Tehran,” Zach replied. “Nothing can be worse than that for me.”

  Greg still looked queasy, so Zach said, “Look, this is probably as good of a plan as any out there. You aren’t going to experience anything today like I did in Iran.”

  “I know,” Greg replied. “Still though…it’s the first battle and everything.”

  “This isn’t a bad first battle then. I had hoped that we would get the spy ring involved at some point so they can have their baptism by fire as well, but you need yours as well,” Zach said, clapping his shoulder. “David’s coming back now. Let’s get in position and wait.”

  The Black Hand column moved swiftly out of New York and made quick pace for Carmel. Jared was eagerly awaiting any update that let him know the operation was a success and the Continentals had been dwelt a crippling blow.

  His phone suddenly began to ring, but to his annoyance, it was not Vincent but instead Liam Hensen. “What the hell does he want?” Jared muttered as he answered the phone.

  “Jared, I have a task for you,” Liam said quickly.

  “I’m in the middle of something, can’t it wait?” Jared said irritably.

  “This will only take a minute of your time,” Liam interjected. “Your organization has done a tremendous job raising hell across the country, but I need you to step up the activity level in states in the Midwest and South.”

  “Why?” Jared asked.

  “It’s for the election,” Liam said. “Can you manage that?”

  “Yeah, whatever. I’ll tell my people to step it up AFTER I finish off the Continental Army,” Jared said hostilely.

  “The what?” Liam asked.

  “It’s what the fuckers from the Conspiracy are calling themselves now. I’ve got their location and I’m going to fuck them up,” Jared said.

  Liam paused before saying, “Just be careful I guess. And don’t blow our cover!”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with you Globalists!” Jared said, annoyed. “This is me settling a score.”

  Jared hung up the phone and checked to see if Vincent had contacted him while he was on the phone. He had not as it turned out, leading Jared to continue to fume.

  “Our scouting unit is reporting that the Black Hand is getting close to Carmel,” David said.

  “Is the diversion in place?” Zach asked.

  “Yes,” David said. “They’re in place in front of the town and will draw the Black Hand into the kill box.”

  “And they’re clear on the fact that they are to go AROUND the town when getting the Black Hand to follow them right?” Greg asked.

  “Yes,” David said. “It’s all in place.”

  “Cheer up, Greg,” Zach said. “It’ll be over soon.”

  “How is that supposed to cheer me up?” Greg said caustically.

  The forward unit for the Continentals was waiting outside the southern side of Carmel, looking intently down the highway for any sign of the Black Hand. It had been reported that the Black Hand was drawing close, but they were not able to see them yet. The sergeant in charge of the unit was getting edgy; this was his first command and he wanted it to go off without a hitch.

  “There’s some trucks coming down the road,” his sniper said, looking through his detached rifle scope. “They have that symbol on the sides so it has to be them.”

  “Okay,” the sergeant said. “Get in position,”

  The squad got in the truck and the sniper sat on the top and hooked his scope onto his rifle. He kept the convoy in his sights as it drew closer, tracking the lead car as it came within in a mile of their location.

  “Any day now,” the sergeant said impatiently.

  “You’re asking me to hit a target moving at sixty miles an hour,” the sniper muttered impatiently.

  The sniper continued to track the lead car as it drew within five hundred yards. The road curved slightly at that point so that the trucks were only moving closer instead of to the side. They were well within his range at that point and the sniper fired several bullets at the lead car. They did not penetrate the windshield, but it did force th
e driver to swerve slightly before correcting themselves.

  The sniper hooked himself to the top of the car and pounded on the roof. “GO!” he roared.

  The sergeant obliged and tore away from the site. The sniper kept his sights on the trucks and noticed that that some of the people in the trucks were hanging out of the windows trying to fire on them. “We might take fire!” he shouted.

  The sergeant looked in his side view mirror and saw what he meant. He swerved to the left, following the plan to swerve around the town to keep the fire away from civilians. The first several trucks followed them down the side road, but several of them went right into the town. “Shit!” the sergeant shouted. He pulled up his radio and said, “Several Black Hand trucks went right into the town.”

  The reply was swift. “Stick to the plan. There’s nothing we can do about them right now.”

  “Copy that,” the sergeant said. “How close are they?” he called out.

  “They’re not getting any closer,” the sniper said, who was occasionally firing on the trucks to make sure what he was saying was true. “How far away are we?”

  “Five minutes tops!” the sergeant shouted, having traced the route several times to time it.

  Zach put down the radio. “Some of the Black Hand went straight into the town,” he said grimly.

  Greg groaned. “Are we able to do anything about it?”

  “Not right now,” Zach said. “If we take out the wave that Jim is drawing in, then we might be able to take them out.”

  “How long?” Greg asked.

  “Minutes,” Zach said. “Remember, let the artificial traps take them out first before we move in,”

  “Okay,” Greg replied. His nerves were jarring him severely at this point, to the point where he hand was shaking.

  Zach noticed this and sighed. “Here take this. I hope you wouldn’t need it, but it’ll probably help.”

  Greg looked at the pill and said, “What is it?”

  “A calming agent. I know you’ve been skittish about this and I figured I might need it as backup,” Zach said, handing it to him.

  Greg took the pill and dry swallowed it. Immediately he began to calm down and his shaking ceased. He took a deep breath and said, “Okay, I can do this.”

  Zach sighed. “I probably should have done some more intense training,”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Greg replied with a new resolve. “Let’s get through today first.”

  The forward unit of the Continentals got all the way around the town and swerved towards the forest. In the side view mirror, the sergeant could see smoke rising over Carmel. He decided not to radio it in, as it would interfere with the plan. He drove his truck deep into the side roads into the national forest and saw the point that he was to take the truck off road.

  The sergeant swerved off the road and cut in between the trees on a makeshift road that the Continentals had put down. The “road” was actually a cover for a series of mines that would shoot shrapnel at the height of the tires of the Black Hand trucks, which would be shredded and strand the Black Hand. They needed to be as far along the road as possible so the Continentals could cause the most damage to the most trucks.

  “Are they coming?!” the sergeant shouted, too busy trying to follow the path to make sure they were indeed being followed.

  The sniper shouted, “Yes! Their trucks are handling the road though so we don’t have much time!”

  “Don’t worry about that!” the sergeant shouted back. He noticed a tree with a white spot painted on it and knew that was the point he needed to get across so that the trap would not affect his vehicle. He picked up his radio and the second he cleared the tree, he shouted, “Blow it!”

  Zach obliged from a half mile away and pushed the detonator. The ground alongside the road suddenly split apart, as several mines bounced in the air aside the Black Hand trucks. They detonated at a height of two feet, spraying nails and other sharp objects in one pre-focused direction, which was towards the Black Hand trucks.

  The tires fell apart after being punctured by dozens of pieces of shrapnel each. The trucks skidded, with some veering to the side into trees, or just simply coming to a halt on the makeshift road. The Continental truck got away as the Black Hand soldiers got out of their trucks to survey the damage and curse their luck.

  Zach could see the Black Hand soldiers after the forward unit finally caught up to them. “Greg, they’re stranded. It’s your call. Do we advance?”

  Greg took another deep breath and said, “Advance.”

  “We’re advancing!” Zach shouted. “Stay with your officers! Do not fire unless fired upon!”

  Greg, Zach, and the rest of the Continentals advanced slowly. The Black Hand so far were distracted by their shredded tires and could not see the Continentals advancing behind them. They were spread out along a line, avoiding being stacked deep to avoid having several of their soldiers taken out by one bullet.

  Greg could see the Black Hand as they drew within one thousand feet. They still had not noticed the advancing Continentals, even though Greg could see them advancing on three sides. Despite the calming agent that Zach had given him, Greg was beginning to grow nervous again. He thought they would have come under fire by now and yet they were five hundred feet away from the Black Hand and they were not doing anything yet.

  Only when the Continentals had drawn within 150 feet did one of the Black Hand soldiers and call out the alarm. The Black Hand drew up with their back against their trucks and guns pointed outwards, but they did not fire. Greg could tell they seemed unsure as to what to do, as they were all looking around at their fellow soldiers to see what they would do.

  Zach noticed this as well and strode forward confidently. Greg followed him closely, mimicking his moves and keeping his gun pointed at the Black Hand. Zach cleared the last line of trees in front of the stricken trucks and said, “Who’s in charge here?”

  One of the Black Hand soldiers, a young black man, said, “Vincent is. He’s back in the town.”

  “Who’s in charge here then?” Zach demanded of him.

  The young man looked around and no one came forward. “I guess I am.”

  “What are your intentions?” Zach asked, keeping his gun trained on him.

  “I think we’re going to surrender,” he said. “We didn’t really want to come along. We were just told we had to come.”

  “If that is your aim,” Zach said slowly, “I’m going to ask that all of you lay down your weapon, come forward slowly with your hands up, and stand here in a line.”

  The young man nodded and said, “You heard him, fall in!”

  The Black Hand soldiers obliged, looking visibly relieved that they would not be in a firefight. Greg stood next to Zach and said, “That was lucky.”

  “Maybe not,” Zach said. “We can transport these prisoners to the drop off point you set up with the Fed. Where was that again?”

  “Hartford,” Greg said simply. “Why would we be unlucky?”

  “The leader of their outfit isn’t here,” Zach said. “Remember what Jim said? There are Black Hand soldiers that split off from this pack. They might still be in Carmel doing God knows what.”

  Greg did not hesitate. “We need to surround the town and flush them out.”

  “Normally I would be more cautious about it, but who knows what they are doing to that town,” Zach replied. He turned to one of his lieutenants and said, “Vanessa, would you take your platoon and transport the prisoners to our trucks? They need to go to Hartford where the Fed will take care of them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Vanessa replied. “All of you follow him, we’re going to take a trip to Connecticut.”

  The prisoner filled out into a line and were flanked by Vanessa’s platoon. “Do we drive to Carmel?” Greg asked.

  Zach looked in the direction of the town and said, “No, they might be looking for that. Let’s go on foot. It’s only a mile away.”

  “How do we go in?” Greg
asked.

  Zach turned and said, “Sergeant! Did you take the east bridge or the north bridge into the forest?”

  “The east bridge, sir!” the sergeant called out.

  “We’re going to go straight south,” Zach said. “If we’re lucky, they won’t be looking in that direction. You need to explain what’s going on to the rest of the company though.”

  Greg was going to question that decision, but decided not to and strode forward to meet the waiting Continentals. “Continentals!” he called out, his voice cracking slightly. “We’re going to move into the city to clear out any of the Black Hand there.”

  The Continentals did not look particularly inspired about it. Greg decided to take it up another notch. “These are the same bastards that once went into Central Park and set it ablaze killing thousands of your fellow New Yorkers! You and I both know that they are doing the same thing to that town right now. It is our job to stop them, because no one else will and you can bet your ass that is what we’re going to do.”

  Greg’s voice rose with every syllable and he grew more confident as well. “You’ve already beaten these pricks before and you will do it again. It doesn’t matter how strong they get. Our training is better and our resolve is better. We’re always going to beat them!”

  There were some shouts among the Continentals. Greg decided to keep going, shouting, “The Black Hand came out here thinking they would run over us. I think it’s time we teach them a permanent lesson. We are never going away and we will keep winning!”

  This time the Continentals all roared. They may have just been humoring Greg for all he knew, but he did not care. “Let’s move out!” he roared, taking the head of the column.

  The Continentals fell in line behind him and advanced south towards the edge of the forest. It was only then that Greg realized that he could smell heavy smoke wafting up from the direction they were walking. “Do you smell that?” he asked Zach.

  “Yes, I do,” Zach said, his brow furrowing. “We need to move quickly. They’ve been in that town for at least an hour.”