San Diego Slaughter

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San Diego Slaughter Page 19

by Robert Boren

“There’s a cop down there?” Quincy asked, looking at the man below in a battered police uniform.

  “Officer Sanchez,” Sax said. “Good guy, been with us through the last battle, then got involved in the El Cajon battle too. He’s good with an M60.”

  “Ready to shove off, Quincy?” asked Dusty from below.

  “Yeah, let’s make room for the next boat,” Quincy said. The men below helped push the boat off as Quincy fired up the engines.

  “How much trouble are we in?” Quincy asked. “No candy coating.”

  “You’re probably better off now than before, judging by the weapons your guys had,” Jesse said. “Hunting rifles aren’t gonna cut it against those old steel fishing boats the enemy is using.”

  “It’ll be difficult even with these light machine guns,” Sax said. “Wish they had a bunch of RPGs for us. Or some .50 cals.”

  Quincy carefully threaded his boat through the heavy traffic of boats coming in. “This is gonna be a zoo.”

  “It is,” Jesse said. “What do you use the boat for, usually?”

  “Marlin tournaments.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Sax said.

  “Trust me, it is. If we live through this, maybe I’ll take you along some time.”

  “That’d be great,” Jesse said.

  “Geez, how many boats do we have?” Sax asked as they got to the main channel. “Looks like several hundred at least.”

  “Last semi-official number I had was three hundred. I see more than that now. They’re coming out of the woodwork.”

  Sax laughed. “Shit, look. There are frigging tri-hull lake boats over there.”

  “They shouldn’t go out,” Quincy said. “Hope they don’t.”

  “Hey, Quincy, how’s it going?” Dusty asked, getting to the top of the flybridge ladder.

  “Wish you would’ve gotten off.”

  “I’m not letting you have all the fun.”

  Quincy glanced back at him for a moment. “I got no family now. Not responsible for anybody else. You’ve got kids.”

  “I’ll do this to insure my kids don’t live on their knees,” Dusty said.

  Quincy started to choke up a little bit, his eyes misting. “Beautiful sentiment, my friend, but I still wish you were on the dock instead of on this flybridge.”

  “I understand,” he said. “If something happens to you, I know how to run this beast. Guess where they’ll fire at first?”

  “When it gets hairy enough I’ll probably go to the lower station,” Quincy said, “unless visibility is too bad. There’s gonna be a lot of boats making the water choppy out there, and we’re gonna be moving fast and bouncing around a lot.”

  They made it out of the bay, onto open water which was showing some chop, with the wind stirring up white caps in the blue-gray water.

  “A little soupy out here,” Dusty said, holding onto the hand rails.

  “Sit,” Quincy said.

  “I think we’ll go down to the deck,” Sax said. “Thanks for letting us join you.”

  “Yes, thanks,” Jesse said.

  “Thank you,” Quincy said. “Be careful going down that ladder.”

  { 17 }

  LCS Attack

  C lem and Elmer watched as Tyler and his warriors loaded the first generator onto the scoop of the bulldozer.

  “See, told you it would work,” Elmer said.

  “I didn’t understand what you were saying,” Clem said. “I thought you wanted to scoop it up, not lift it onto a stationary scoop. This will work fine. Good thinking.”

  “Same room as the other generator, right?” Tyler asked from on the bulldozer’s seat.

  “Yep,” Clem said. “Just set it down inside the room for now. We’ll probably need help positioning them when we’ve got everything set up, but that won’t be today. Getting late.”

  Tyler nodded, putting the bulldozer in gear, slowly moving forward into the mine shaft.

  “Think there’s enough of this war left to make these upgrades worthwhile?” Elmer asked.

  “I hope not,” Clem said.

  Willard walked into the mine shaft. “Got her done, I see. Nice work.”

  “Tyler and his warriors did the heavy lifting,” Elmer said. “That little bulldozer helped a bunch too.”

  “Got a call from town. The parts for the main generator came in.”

  “They’re early. That’s great.”

  “Still enough daylight to go get them?” Clem asked.

  “If I were you guys I’d wait on that, and work the generators inside the mine.”

  Elmer studied Willard’s face. “You think we’ll get hit again.”

  “I got that itch. We’re really close to the end of this war. The enemy won’t go quietly. They’ll go kicking and screaming.”

  Elmer chuckled. “They’ll probably bomb the mine and close it up again.”

  “Shut up,” Clem said, laughing and shaking his head.

  “Maybe we should use our laptops and monitor the video surveillance systems,” Elmer said.

  Willard grinned. “Come on into the saloon and do it over a snort or two.”

  “I’ll get my laptop,” Clem said. “It’s in the hotel room.”

  “Yeah, I’ll grab mine from the love-nest and bring it over, too.”

  “Love nest?” Willard asked.

  “Susanne’s room,” Elmer said with a wicked grin.

  They left the mine shaft, heading further down the main street, Willard going straight to the saloon. Elmer and Clem met him there after a couple minutes.

  “What are you doing in here?” Susanne asked, walking through the swinging doors as Elmer and Clem were setting up their laptops.

  “Willard has a feeling we’re about to get hit again,” Elmer said. “We know the intel team is busy with the battles starting up, so we decided to man the video surveillance here just in case.”

  “Sure you aren’t just in here to drink?” Susanne asked, eyeing Elmer.

  “You see me with a drink?”

  Clem chuckled. Then Willard walked over with a bottle and some shot glasses.

  “See, I knew it,” Susanne said, shaking her head.

  “Good timing, Willard,” Elmer quipped, Clem cracking up. Sarah came in.

  “Oh, there you are,” she said, coming over to Clem. “What’s going on? A little early for drinking, isn’t it?”

  “We came in here to monitor the video, just in case. Action starting up again.”

  “That armada?”

  “Yeah, and the convoy down in Mexico is running into IEDs too. Probably means there are enemy troops nearby them. Gonna get hairy. Sometimes they hit us here when it gets hot because of the intel team.”

  “If Tyler gets those generators placed, we ought to hand this off to our women and go get them running, just in case,” Clem said.

  “Our women?” Susanne asked, ready to go off.

  “Oh, I don’t know, I kinda like that,” Sarah said. “Sure, we’ll man the video, won’t we Susanne?”

  Susanne shrugged. “Got to do our part, I guess. At least we’ll stay sober doing it.”

  “We’ll get it set up for you,” Elmer said, logging into the surveillance system, Clem doing the same. The men ran Susanne and Sarah through the process to cycle through the cameras, stop on a specific one, or put them on a grid.

  “This is easy enough,” Susanne said. “Even a trained monkey could do it. She nodded at Elmer, then glanced at Sarah. “Case in point.”

  Sarah giggled, Elmer getting a phony look of outrage on his face. Then his phone rang.

  “Tyler,” he said, hitting the speaker button. “Talk to me.”

  Susanne rolled her eyes.

  “Those generators are placed, if you want to come work them.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Elmer said. He ended the call. “Let’s go.”

  Clem nodded, and they left the women with the laptops, Willard watching them walk out the door. He picked up the bottle and shot glasses, getting ready
to take them back to the bar.

  “Where do you think you’re taking that?” Susanne said. “Hit me.”

  Willard chuckled, pouring for the ladies and himself.

  ***

  Doug was watching his phone as the BFV crept along Highway 2, in the middle of the huge convoy of BFVs. “This is slow going.”

  “Yeah, they ought to upgrade the engines on these damn things.”

  “I’m glad we’re back here,” Gonzalez said. “The forward part of the convoy is still hitting IEDs.”

  “Lose any vehicles?” Jenkins asked.

  “Two are disabled enough that they can’t be taken into battle. Nobody hurt or killed, though.”

  “Gonna be getting dark soon,” Jorge said. “Glad we’re not on dirt.”

  “What are our guys gonna do when they get to the coast, now that we know the enemy isn’t landing there?” Doug asked.

  “Head north, I’d imagine,” Gonzalez said. “We might miss out on the whole battle, you know.”

  “That’d be a shame,” Jenkins said.

  “Spoken like a pussy,” Sessions jabbed.

  “Hey, screw you, man,” Jenkins said, both of them breaking into laughter. Then there was an explosion ahead of them.

  Gonzalez had his eyes glued to the CIV. “Dammit, the first BFV just hit an IED. It’s blown up.” The convoy slowed to a stop.

  “That wasn’t there before,” Jenkins said. “There are enemy troops around here.”

  “I think you’re right,” Gonzalez said. “Glad it’s almost dark. We’ll see them with the night vision. Can’t hide from these systems.”

  The convoy moved a little more forward.

  “Are we pushing the hulk out of the way?” Sessions asked.

  “Nope, the lead vehicles are getting on the dirt.”

  “That’s one advantage to these,” Jorge said.

  There was another explosion ahead, blowing another vehicle sky high.

  “Son of a bitch, they put some on the shoulder of the damn road too,” Gonzalez said. “Sending a message to the CO.”

  “I’m sure he’s getting a lot of those,” Sessions said. “Why aren’t we seeing these guys with the drone feeds or the satellite pictures?”

  “They’re not Islamists, that’s for sure,” Doug said, looking at his long-range app. “Haven’t seen anybody around here on the apps, and they have no way to shield themselves.”

  “The CO has ordered us to stop,” Gonzalez said. “They’re sending an advanced drone. It’ll have FLIR capability. Sit tight, guys.”

  Jorge shut down the engine. “Well this sucks.”

  “Doug, keep scanning with your sight. I’ll be watching with the CIV. I think we’re in danger of an attack. We need to watch for anti-tank weapons.”

  “I figured,” Doug said, not taking his eye away from the sight.

  ***

  Ivan came into the intel room with Jules. “We got with the Navy. They were already thinking along the same lines as you guys.”

  “What are they gonna do about it?” Robbie asked.

  “They’ve got several LCS ships ready to go,” Ivan said.

  “What’s an LCS ship?” Morgan asked.

  “Stands for Littoral Combat Ship,” Ivan said. “Independence Class. They’re built for patrols close to shore, and especially submarine hunting.”

  “I know what you’re talking about,” Robbie said. “Those are stealth ships. They look pretty crazy, like the F-117s did when they first came out. I think they go over 40 knots. Trimarans.”

  “That’s fast for a Navy ship,” Seth said.

  “Why weren’t they already out there?” Kaitlyn asked. “Wouldn’t they be better for this task than a bunch of sport fishing boats?”

  Ivan chuckled. “They always planned to use them in this battle, but they didn’t want to spread it around, and the mass of civilian boats will be helpful to them.”

  “They don’t trust communications,” Jules said. “That much obvious.”

  “I’d say that’s a true statement,” Ben said. “It’s gonna be dark pretty soon, and I’ll bet those LCS ships have FLIR systems.”

  “Yep,” Ivan said. His phone rang. He picked it up and took a look. It was General Hogan. Ivan put it on speaker.

  “Yes General Hogan. You’re on speaker, in the intel room.”

  “The Navy told you about the LCS ships?”

  “Yeah,” Ivan said. “Thanks.”

  “No thanks required, they already planned to use them,” General Hogan said. “We did one other thing, though.”

  “What’s that?” Jules asked.

  “The President had a chat with the leadership of the EU. He made clear to them that any attack by a nuclear submarine at or near the California coast would result in ballistic missile strikes on the European country who owns the sub.”

  “Good,” Jules said. “They sit up and take notice of that.”

  “The EU leadership denied everything, of course. We’ll see what happens. Those LCS ships have the very latest capabilities. Still classified, so I can’t tell you about them, but if there are subs around, they might have a very bad day before they even get a chance to fire anything at us.”

  “Thanks, General,” Ivan said. “How’s it going with your operation?”

  “Not on this line,” he said. “Too much is leaking out.”

  “Understood,” Ivan said. “Thank you, and Godspeed.”

  “Same to you, my friend,” General Hogan said. The call ended.

  “Good news, no?” Jules said.

  “Yes, good news,” Ivan said. “Hope the Carlsbad Caverns battle goes well. It’s more important than what we’ve got going here.”

  “You heard about the IEDs stopping the end of the convoy in Mexico, right?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “No, I hadn’t heard that,” Ivan said, his brow furrowed. “How is that possible.? The L-ATVs rolled over that road already.”

  “It obvious, boss,” Jules said. “Enemy have infantry hidden in area. They put new IEDs after forward part of convoy past.”

  “I think the BFVs should wait until it’s dark, and then cruise around with their FLIR systems,” Robbie said. “I remember my dad talking about their capabilities. Pretty hard to hide from those heat-reading systems. You stick out like a sore thumb in the dark.”

  “He right,” Jules said.

  “They might be taking that advice,” Kaitlyn said. “They’re stopped on the road right now.”

  “They didn’t choose that strategy,” Seth said. “They tried to go off onto the shoulder of the road to get around the destroyed unit. There was an IED in the dirt. They can’t move forward with those vehicles until they clear this mess.”

  “It be long night,” Jules said.

  Kaitlyn stood up. “Hey, everybody, the enemy armada just went north of the border.”

  “Does it look like they’re going to dump their loads on the beach?” Ivan asked.

  “No, looks to me like they’re heading for San Diego Bay,” Kaitlyn said.

  ***

  Quincy’s boat was in the middle of a huge group of fishing boats, heading south towards Imperial Beach. Jesse rushed up to the flybridge with his M240, two long belts of ammo over his shoulders. The other men were getting onto the bow of the boat below them, dropping their tripods and laying behind their weapons.

  “What have you heard?” Quincy asked, still driving the boat, Dusty next to him.

  “The enemy armada is north of the border now, coming at us full bore,” Jesse said. “They’re off Imperial Beach.

  “I can’t see them, but the sunset is messing with my vision a little,” Dusty said, shading his eyes with his hand.

  “The intel team in Dulzura is watching via the advanced drone we have overhead. We’re about to engage.”

  Machine gun fire sounded ahead of them.

  “Who’s shooting?” Quincy asked, squinting to see forward. “I don’t see anything yet.”

  Jesse pulled his phone after a
text came in. “It’s the enemy. They’re making contact with the first of our boats.

  “Oh, crap, fireball ahead,” Dusty said, pointing to the burning sport fisher about a thousand yards ahead of them.

  The sound of M60s and M240s filled the air, the dusk showing the muzzle flash on the front of several of the boats.

  “Dusty, go down and get the good binoculars,” Quincy said.

  Dusty nodded and slipped down the ladder.

  “Shit, now I see them,” Jesse said. They’ve got more boats than we do.”

  “No they don’t,” Quincy shouted, the machine gun fire getting louder. “Most of our boats aren’t out of San Diego Bay yet.”

  Jesse turned around, looking behind them, seeing a flood of boats racing out of the bay. “I see what you mean.”

  Dusty came back up with the binoculars. “You want them?”

  “No, I’m driving. Watch what’s going on. Your eyes are better than mine anyway. Maybe you can help direct fire.”

  “Okay,” Dusty said, raising them to his eyes as machine gun fire raged. “Shit, they just killed a boat like this one.” They watched as the front of the boat came apart, fire engulfing the rear deck within seconds, men diving for their lives, and boats next to them firing madly at the approaching armada.

  “Shit, we aren’t doing much damage to those old rust-buckets,” Jesse said.

  Dusty nodded, taking the binoculars away from his eyes. “Even the big guns aren’t doing much against those. We need to move around more. Most of these fishing boats are a lot faster. They should be circling, moving all the time, firing at the bridges of the enemy boats.”

  “Sending that out,” Jesse said, texting frantically on his phone.

  “We’re almost in range,” Sax yelled below. “Get ready.”

  “You want maneuvering, you’ll get it,” Quincy said, pushing the throttles forward, the boat bobbing and weaving around slower boats in front of them. “I’m going for that old trawler there, on the far west end of them. More room to maneuver on that side.”

  “Go for it,” Jesse said, aiming his M60. “This is gonna be loud.”

  “Fire!” Sax shouted, the men on the bow opening fire, hitting the port side of the fishing boat, men on the deck opening up with AK-47s, bullets smashing into the fiberglass of the boat.

 

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