by C M Hoffmann
“Nothing that was one of the empty ones, just people. I think some of the people from the school too.”
Fred makes the hard decision, “Nothing we can do about it now, time to go home.” With a heavy heart, Task Force Recovery begins its trek home. Monty says a prayer aloud as everyone sits in silence.
FIREFIGHT
Two-Six bounds into the intersection of Veterans and Williams again as the flashes of gunfire are almost blinding in the setting sun. They stop the trucks providing as much cover as possible and begin formulating a plan.
Trey, “What the fuck is it with this intersection?”
Cane, “Always did hate this one. Who’s shooting at us?”
Rapp, “I see a subject running in orange.”
Fitz, “Free-Defectors coming to claim what we denied them.”
Wade pops his neck from side to side, “I want to hurt someone.”
Pops, “Well you’ll get the chance. Move up quick and low, start getting the injured to shelter. Then we’ll mop up the mess.”
Gavin, “Seems to be our usual MO lately.”
Cane, “Just another day in paradise, brotha.”
Pops, “Two-Six, get moving.”
Wyatt, “Roger that.”
Two-Six begins to move up evenly spaced sending round after round into the ever darkening landscape. A muzzle flash presenting a less than preferable target; but, the flashes were plentiful. Everywhere from cars to windows, bushes to trees, even seeming to come from the ground itself as the enemy proned out on the pavement. It appeared there were more defectors than originally counted. One by one the members of Task Force Two-Six grab shirt collars and belts and begin to drag wounded and dead alike further into friendly territory.
Cane shouts over the gunfire, “T! You brought the seven mag right?!”
Trey, “Yea, it’s in the truck.”
“Flank and bark that shit off, we got close up!”
Trey responds with a wink, “Roger that, little brother,” and takes off at a sprint.
Halfway through dragging wounded civilians and officers, the first seven millimeter magnum round echoes above all others from a distance further behind the defending line. Cane smiles to himself as the enemy gunfire seems to slack off as the second and third rounds scream through the air.
The defending citizens seem to catch their second wind after hearing the fourth and fifth shots and with renewed vigor they begin to approach the vehicle wall regaining the ground they had given up.
Trey loads another live round into the chamber, “Six.... and.....” BOOM, “seven....” He cycles the bolt smoothly never losing focus on the next target. The target, Trey remembers, “Little Willie, nice to see you,” and he smiles as he squeezes the trigger and the rifle jumps. “Eight.”
The battle rages on for what seems like hours when it has only been minutes. Two-Six is once again the determining factor of victory in the darkness. Their presence alone seems to incite fire within even their old co-workers let alone the civilians who have a very high opinion of the operators. As the muzzle flashes rip through the night air, the fluorescent orange Spartan helmets radiate from their chests. The helmets are a beacon in the ongoing fight, more and more individual defenders find themselves drawing close to the nearest member of Two-Six.
Wade over channel five, “Hit! Hit! FUCK! Gavin is down!”
Cane, “Coming to you! Wade, rock those rounds out!”
Wade, “Move!”
Gavin, “Wade, would you please kill that fuck that just shot me in the fucking leg!”
Cane over channel five, “Trey moving north to Gavin, you got eyes on?”
Trey, “Negative, just get to him!”
Wyatt, “What’s the plan, big dog!”
Cane, “Watch my six, I’m going to get him.” He takes off at a sprint at Gavin’s last known location on the north side of the large thoroughfare. His steps are silent in the constant clatter of gunfire.
♦ ♦ ♦
Scarlett, Marie, and Mallory are all sitting perfectly still with their breaths held.
Wade over the radio, “Hit! Hit! FUCK! Gavin is down!”
Mallory, “NO! They’ve got to get him out of there!”
Scarlett tries to calm Mallory down but a struggle ensues as Mallory reaches for the radio. “Calm the fuck down! They can’t save him until the fight is over!”
Marie picks up the phone and begins dialing for the only ambulance with tears streaming down her face.
Mallory, “Move!”
Scarlett slaps Mallory as hard as she can leaving a perfect handprint on the side of her face in hopes to bring her back to the current crisis. “They. Have. To. Win. FIRST.”
Mallory collapses to the floor and begins to sob.
Marie on the phone, “We’re going to need all the personnel you have! There’s a gun fight going on at the intersection of Vets and Williams. Multiple injured. Stay in cover until the shooting stops.”
Scarlett, “Good job, Marie, glad I don’t have to slap the shit out of you too.”
Marie can’t respond as she looks to Scarlett with a red face streaked with tears.
♦ ♦ ♦
Cane slides across the concrete and spent brass, ignoring the slicing pain in his lower legs, behind Gavin and begins to fire over Gavin’s head. Cane screams to his brother over the sounds of gunfire, “Assuming you can still fight?”
Gavin , “You’re goddamn right I can fight, I’m gonna get mine.”
Pops over the radio, “Cane, get him out of there!”
Cane, “Negative, gonna make him some cover and we’ll move him when we’re done. I’ll tourniquet his ass for now.”
Pops, “Do it and get back in the fight!”
Cane shines a flashlight on Gavin’s leg, “Lucky, it’s below your hip, looks like it missed the artery. It’s just a flesh wound. You pussy.” A projectile strikes the pavement near Cane’s foot, “Damn! Wade, cover us for the love of everything.”
Wade doesn’t respond as he reloads and again keeps a fast but steady tempo of flying lead. Rapp and Fitz soon add their own rounds to the beat and soon an orchestra of varying tones deafens the air around Cane and Gavin. Cane works the tourniquet up Gavin’s leg, as high as he can to the joint at the hip.
Gavin let’s out a high pitched yelp as Cane snaps the tourniquet strap in place, “You caught my fucking nuts, pay attention.”
Cane, “Don’t be a bitch.” And with that modicum of encouragement, Cane cranks down on the windlass until it won’t budge, hoping to stop any bleeding he can’t see under his brother’s pants, and Gavin winces at the pain. He gives the tourniquet one last quarter turn, using all his strength to get it as tight as possible before securing it down. He helps Gavin to his knee and half carries half drags him to a nearby tree for cover.
Slowly the attacking volley of fire slacks. A few orange jumpsuits can be seen fleeing into the ether. A few more defending shots see an end to the incoming assault. The evening air is heavy with the smoke of so much expended ammunition. Faint trails of smoke can be seen emitting from the muzzles of multiple firearms.
Pops over the radio, “Two-Six to headquarters, looks like we got a code for the moment, send us that bus.”
Scarlett, “They’re already en route to you.”
Pops, “Spartan Two and Basher One regroup on Legacy Two.”
Wyatt calls out, “Already here!”
Pops, “Alright, go pull a truck around and let’s get Gavin loaded up. We’ll let the ambulance tend to everyone else.”
“Word, be right back.”
Rapp, “How far back did Trey go?”
Cane, “Couldn’t be too far. Low light and he’s only shot effectively at just over six hundred yards. I’m sure he’ll be here in a second.”
Fitz, “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Pops, “I agree,” over the radio, “Basher One, check in.”
.............................................. silence.
Pops repea
ts, “BASHER ONE, check in.”
Gavin, “Useless.”
Pops, “Here comes Wyatt with the truck. Let’s get Gavin in and then we’ll go look for him, radio might be dead.” After helping Gavin into the bed of the truck and Wyatt drives away, the remaining members of Two-Six formulate a search grid.
Cane, “Pops, sounded like his shots came from by the restaurant, but there’s really no way of knowing exactly where they came from with all of the shooting going on.”
Fitz, “I agree, he was definitely shooting from somewhere over there.”
Pops, “Alright start there and let’s see where he’s out, but remember to be careful, steve could be waiting or more Defectors could have made it into the city.”
And the search began, slowly but surely Task Force Two-Six scours the area for their missing member. They cover the ground levels first, calling out to their lost sheep. Amid the scattered battlegrounds there is no evidence as to his whereabouts. On and on they look, praying for the sign that he is still somewhere nearby. The radios crackle with the calls, they try multiple channels even those unused before the Turn.
Cane, “Fitz, this ain’t right, dude. Trey would have checked in or at least said something by now.”
Fitz, “I know, let’s try the roof of the restaurant. Maybe he went high.”
“Yea still can’t shake that uneasy feeling. Hope the moron’s alright.”
“Come on, I’ll give you a boost.” He lifts Cane up to get a better grip on an electrical pipe jutting from the exterior wall of the restaurant. After a few awkward dangling moments, Cane finally reaches the roof.
“Fitz, my light is dead, toss me yours.”
Fitz throws the flashlight to the roof, “Fresh batteries, you should think of keeping some spares.”
“Yea, yea, whatever you say boy scout.” He spins and shines the 1200 lumen flashlight around the flat surface of the roof. He sighs, “Nothing...” a glint against the gray roof catches his eye, “Oh shiny things. It’s... aww fuck!” Over the radio, “Legacy One, come to the restaurant we got a problem.”
Pops, “Whatcha got?”
“I found a seven mag casing...” The members of Task Force Two-Six mutter a soft ‘shit’ as they realize, Trey would never leave a reloadable casing behind. “Looks like a struggle, some blood drops, and... shit, Pops, I got a drag trail.”
Pops, “We’re coming up! Wade, go grab that ladder.” When all the members settle on the roof, the scene unfolds as five flashlights light up the flat top.
Rapp, “Think he got hit and dragged himself off?”
Fitz, “Nah, the fall would’ve hurt worse, plus he would’ve just waited for us to find him.”
Wade, “How often does Trey move when he finds a good spot?”
Cane, “Never, he’s the definition of a real life camper.”
“Look at all the footprints in the dust. There’s ours where we came in, assuming his are somewhere underneath, but look over here. There are two sets that come in one way, and leave another with the drag between them.”
Rapp, “So someone grabbed Trey?”
Pops, “Fuck, yea that’s what it looks like. But who?”
Cane, “Steve wouldn’t drag him so we can probably rule that out.”
Rapp, “Maybe the Defectors circled around?”
Fitz, “Seems like a pretty risky plan for a bunch of convicts.”
Pops stiffens, “Then let’s go see if there are any alive to ask.”
Two-Six moves through the battlegrounds of the recent fire fight looking at the spent brass covering the ground, each step clanging as they drag their feet through the haze of disbelief. The flashlights continue to illuminate the area when a voice in the distance is heard shouting, “Don’t run now, bitch! You couldn’t out run me a year ago, and you can’t now!” The flashlights point out in the distance where Romano and Frum, more old squad members from before the Turn, can be seen chasing an orange blur. The chase lasts less than a minute with the orange jumpsuit being tackled to the ground. The jumpsuit is handcuffed and dragged to a light pole in the distance.
Romano comes trotting cheerfully back over to Two-Six. He stops at the sight of the glowing Two-Six insignias and laughs, “Hollanns, I figured y’all would be the ones to save our asses. Why the long faces?”
Cane, “Trey was snatched; thinking maybe one or two of the Defectors made their way around.”
“Well then do I have a surprise for y’all. There’s someone you should meet. Me and Frum just snatched one, ourselves. We did goooood.” He leads them to a man tied to a nearby light pole. He smiles wide as he punches the man in the gut causing him to let out a gasp of air, “Been waiting a long time for that. In case you don’t know, this is Big Head. We go way back to when he was just peddling crack over on the tracks. Finally got mixed up in some big stuff and got sent away. Go figure he’d get free when the world goes to shit.”
Big Head, “Fuck you, Mike. I ain’t scared of no punk ass blue like you.”
“Not yet you’re not. My friends have some questions, I suggest you be honest.”
Pops, “Big Head, we met before. What was your plan in coming here?”
Big Head looks up revealing a swollen eye and winces at a gunshot wound to his shoulder, but remains silent. Frum smiles again as he lightly taps the right side of Big Head’s face with an open hand. “Answer him. Or we won’t be so gentle next time.”
Big head spits blood and glares at Frum, “Y’all think y’all big and bad now...” his sentence is cut short when Pops grabs him by the lower jaw.
Pops, “Look around you, your people are dead, your plan failed, you’re not taking a fucking thing from us except for another bullet unless you start talking.”
Big Head momentarily looks around and the members of Two-Six shine their flashlights in every direction showing the carnage in the streets. “Alright, bossman, I get ya. Look we thought we was just gonna take over a bit. We wasn’t gonna kick y’all out or nothin’ we just needed a safe place.”
Romano, “We were here when you showed up the second time, your people immediately started shooting when we challenged you.”
Big Head, “Well fuck man, all we know is jail house rules, you take what you want.”
Pops squeezes Big Head’s jaw harder and stares forcefully into Big Head’s face, “What. Was. Your. Plan?”
“Ah, fuck, bossman, quite a grip you got. Aight, aight, we was just gonna push y’all out. Just take over and be safe ya know. Ain’t no big scheme, all we got is the guns we, uh, uh, oh fuck it, the guns we stole on our way here.”
“For your sake, I hope that’s the truth.”
“You gon’ let me go?”
“Not a chance. Two-Six, we’re moving out.”
Fitz, “I think there’s another person we can check out.”
Cane, “Who?”
Fitz looks into the distance, “..... The Preacher....”
♦ ♦ ♦
Chief, “Well it looks like it’s time, let’s get this burn out underway.”
Fire Commander, “You sure about this, Chief? Awful lot of people still on the outskirts.”
“We did our best. Sarge, would you like to do the honors?” Chief picks up a five gallon gasoline container and hands it to the sergeant nearby.
Mack, “Absolutely, sir. Always said it would be fantastic to light a house on fire legally and have the fire department douse it.”
Fire Commander, “Have you really thought about that?”
“Maaan, I’ve been hoping for this moment for years before steve showed up. Now it’s legal, now we get to have fun.”
Chief, “Always knew you were a little off.”
Mack winks, “You know it, Chief.” And with a broad smile Mack douses the front area of the house and strikes a match, he breathes deep and lets it fall. Immediately the flames start to rise and soon the whole house is engulfed. “Just as marvelous as I imagined.”
Fire Commander, “Off indeed.”
Fre
d over channel one, “Recovery to Chief.”
Chief, “Go ahead.”
“We’re about five minutes out, hope you got a place for us. Oh and ten-forty-nine we picked up a few extra legs and some information you’ll want to see.”
“Ten-four, ten-nineteen to the complex and we’ll get it arranged.”
“Roger that.”
Scarlett on channel one, “Ninja Three, you may want to get a lift to our house, got bad news.”
Fred, “Alrighty, I’ll be there shortly.”
RETRIBUTION
Two-six regroups at Cane’s house to plan their next course of action. Ideas and theories fly around the living room but there’s a constant distraction hanging in the air. The gloom of an incomplete family gathering. Soon a silence invades their home and they stare at their hands trying to find the answers.
Rapp, “Well we have to at least check out the preacher. Every minute we don’t, Trey is closer to being lost for good.”
Pops, “Seems like a stretch for a crazy religious nut.”
Cane, “Pops, I’m all about caution but we have to do something. And we’re a little short on manpower with Fred being gone, Trey missing, and Gavin with a hole in his leg.”
Scarlett enters the living room, “Fred’s en route here. They just came back from Laplace should be here in a few.”
Wyatt, “We don’t know how many people the preacher has or what kind of firepower they have.”
Cane, “Look at you sounding all tactical and shit.”
“Had to learn sometime. So do we call in everyone or what?”
Wade snickers, “Aaand there it goes.”
Fitz, “Can’t call in everyone, there’s still a steve problem and no telling how many other humans walking around trying to find a safe place. Not to mention they started the burn out twenty minutes ago.”
Wyatt, “So what’s the plan?”
Pops, “Beau! Can you come out here.”
Beau, “What’s up guys?”
“Gear up, you’ve just been inducted into Two-Six.”
Beau smiles wide and puffs out his chest, his large stature already towers over most of the members, “Be happy to oblige. Not to complain, but staying home is getting kind of ridiculous.”