by Chris Pike
“Kate,” Dillon said, this is our plan. You and Nico take Andrey Koshkin to Rally Point A. He is on our side and can give you an idea of what we’ll be facing. Find one of the VFW guys and have him recruit every rifleman he knows. Tell them to bring their own weapons and ammo. Chandler and I will ride with you for a couple of miles, then get off and try to delay the Russians for a while.”
Kate nodded. “Got it. To let you know, Andrey was the soldier who saved Holly’s house and our lives. We’ll take good care of him.”
“I already know, but thanks for verifying.”
“I hope the truck can handle the weight of all these people,” Nico said. He suspiciously eyed the truck then hopped in the driver’s seat. Kate rode shotgun.
“Don’t worry,” Dillon assured him. “The truck can carry a lot of hay. The only thing to remember is that you’ll need extra braking distance with all that extra weight.”
Nico handed Chandler the AR-15A2 rifle he had been holding. “I understand you can get some use out of this.” Nico then passed him a bandolier of 20-round magazines. “These are loaded with 77 grainers.”
“Thanks. It’s my favorite sniping ammo,” Chandler said. He placed the bandolier over his head and across his chest. “One more thing, Nico. Take good care of my sis.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “I know how to take care of myself just fine.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Nico said. “You can bet on it.”
* * *
Minutes later, Nico had pulled the truck onto the highway, driving only as fast as he thought was safe without losing anyone out of the flatbed. Maneuvering the truck was about as easy as running through waist high water. Once they were about two miles from the compound, Dillon rapped on the truck to get Nico’s attention. He motioned for Nico to pull over.
“Time for us to cause a diversion,” Dillon said. “Come on Chandler, let’s go.” Both men hopped off the trailer and disappeared into the woods.
Nobody spoke as Nico drove along the country road. Sporadic gunfire echoed in the distance, and Nico said a silent prayer to keep Dillon and Chandler safe. Minutes passed, and Nico slowed the truck, worried about the pair of headlights coming in his direction. “Kate, let me handle this. If anything goes wrong start shooting.”
Kate nodded. “I wonder who it could be?”
“No telling.” Nico rested his hand on his handgun, preparing to draw it if necessary. He squinted as the old car ambled closer. “Who around here drives a POS like that?”
“That POS is an egg yolk yellow 1973 Ford Gran Torino,” Kate said, “and I’m guessing it’s stocked with a case of warm beer. Pull up to it, but let’s be cautious, just in case I’m wrong.”
The old Ford pulled alongside the truck, and a satisfied grin spread across Kate’s face.
The driver of the Ford rolled down the window. “I thought the party was at Holly Hudson’s house. We decided to follow the lights and the gunshots to find out where the action is in this one horse town.” Uncle Billy tossed a grin at Nico then took a long pull on a warm beer.
“I thought that was you, Uncle Billy,” Kate said. “Luke too?”
“Yup, I’m here,” Luke said, leaning out the window. “I didn’t want Uncle Billy to have all the fun!”
“Are y’all here to party or to fight?”
“Both!”
“You can help us by picking up Dillon and Chandler.” Kate waited for Nico’s approval.
“Who am I to say no?”
“They’re back that way.” Kate hitched her thumb in the direction where the two ran into the woods. “On second thought, I’m coming with you. I don’t want them to overshoot and run into the Russians. Nico, you know the way to the rally point.”
Before Nico had time to protest, Kate had swung open the door of the truck and dashed to the Gran Torino.
“Be careful, Kate,” Nico said, worry lines etching his face. “I need you to stay safe.”
Uncle Billy opened the driver’s door, got out, and stepped over to the trunk. He popped the trunk and took out three fully automatic M-4 carbines with magazine bags. “Don’t worry. We’ll be careful. These are the real deal.” Uncle Billy turned one of the carbines over and tapped the automatic option on the selector.
Nico nodded his approval.
* * *
Crouched in the woods, Dillon and Chandler weighed their options on how to slow down the Russians.
“What’s the plan?” Dillon said. “I don’t have a lot of ammo.”
“My AR with this type of ammo,” Chandler held up a bullet, “is good out to six hundred yards, even without a scope. I shot your AK-74, and it’s dead on to about three hundred yards.” Chandler shifted positions. “I’ll go to the top of the hill so I can control the road and the field beyond. I’m guessing they’ll take cover and send a group to flank me. They’ll probably have night vision and body armor, so at distance, shoot single shots at their head or pelvis.”
“Good thinking,” Dillon replied. “A pelvis hit means they’ll lose their mobility, but can still pull a trigger. Be sure to take cover.”
“Right. If they get too close you can use the full auto position. Replenish your ammo with theirs. Stay low, and if they are silhouetted by the moon, shoot. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Dillon said. “We can make it happen. Remember, we have a reason to live. I’ve got Holly and Cassie, who’s going to be a mother. You’ve got Amanda and the rest of your family. Focus on the task and we’ll get there. Let’s not forget Anna showed incredible bravery. Remember what she did for us.” Dillon was a bit sharp, but he had to be sure Chandler’s head was in the game. “Good luck.”
“Good luck to you too,” Chandler said.
* * *
Chandler stationed himself at the top of the hill, using scattered boulders for cover. In the distance about twenty men followed a Russian armored vehicle. A man holding what appeared to be giant binoculars was standing in the open hatch of the vehicle, exposing his head and torso. Those giant binoculars were in fact Thermal Night Vision, which could track movements of warm bodies, including Chandler’s and Dillon’s.
Chandler rolled over on his stomach and set his mechanical rear sight on five hundred yards, waiting for the slow moving vehicle to enter his selected kill zone. He identified the Russian standing in the vehicle as his target. Chandler pressed his cheek against the smooth stock and took up the slack in the trigger. He swept off the safety, took up the slack, and pulled the trigger. The instant the bullet jerked the man’s head, the thermal binoculars flew out of his hand and landed on the top of the vehicle. Chandler used Kentucky elevation to put one in the device, shattering it into useless glass and metal.
Now they were on even terms.
Taking aim, Chandler first selected officers and machine gunners, snap shooting the remainder.
Dillon watched the master in action, and waited for his own turn at bat. Five men broke the horizon of the hill, silhouetted by the moonlight. Dillon cursed the AK sights which were nearly useless at night. He regretted forgetting to ask Chandler for tips on sighting at night. Regardless, he angled the sights to get the maximum amount of moonlight. When ready, he pretended he was on the range shooting steel, where each steel disk represented a head shot.
Three men went down. Two were still at large. Dillon listened for any careless movement the men might make to give away their position.
Twenty yards to his right, the sound of something large slipping on gravel got his attention. Dillon switched to full auto and fired, emptying the magazine. He inserted a full magazine and racked the bolt carrier.
“Weapon down!” The order was laced in a heavy Russian accent.
Dillon froze. There was no time for indecision.
He thought quickly and made a motion to throw his weapon down. In one deft movement, he launched himself to the ground, twisted his body around and emptied several rounds into the soldier.
The Russian soldier collapsed to the ground, and in one last desper
ate attempt he swung his own AK in Dillon’s direction, only to be met by a final life-ending bullet to the head.
Dillon gathered the soldier’s ammo to replenish his dwindling supply, and as he was gathering the ammo, the hair on his arms prickled. Footsteps approached. Dillon pivoted around ready to send a blast of bullets.
Chandler appeared on the horizon, and Dillon let out the breath he had been holding.
“Thank God it was only you,” Dillon said.
“I should have alerted you.”
“No worries.”
“Let’s gather the spoils and get outta here,” Chandler said.
“The load is too heavy and will slow us down. Let’s hide what we can’t carry then leave.”
Once Dillon and Chandler had gathered the ammo and guns, they picked a hollow log to hide their bounty in, then headed to the road where a car idled toward them. Chandler recognized the poor driving.
“Did someone call for a yellow cab?” Uncle Billy asked in his best smartass dialect. Kate sat shotgun while Luke was in the back seat.
“I can’t say I did,” Dillon said, scratching his head. He didn’t recognize the driver, but from the way Chandler was acting, the newcomer was on the up and up. “I’ll take the ride nonetheless.”
Luke threw the door open. “I’m Luke. Hop in.” He went around to the back of the car and popped the trunk lid with the set of extra keys his uncle had procured for him.
Chandler introduced his sister, his uncle, and his brother to Dillon.
“Nice to meet y’all,” Dillon said.
“Come see our newfound treasure.” Luke gestured for Dillon and Chandler to come over. Inside were two rifles, two pistols, two combat vests, and four grenades. A bar-b-que MRE rounded out the bounty.
“Uncle Billy?” Chandler yelled. “Where’d you get this?”
“Well, once upon a time there was a slight detour—”
“We need the condensed version.”
Uncle Billy huffed. “The long and short of it was while driving here I got a doozy of a headache so I stopped at a gas station that was open to buy pain reliever. But the owner wasn’t very hospitable because he decided to relieve me of my life, which I can tell you I didn’t take kindly to, so as of now he’s somewhere near the pearly gates, or the other ones down under, maybe the ones near Australia, ‘cause parts of that country are about as close as you can get to Hades, although parts of West Texas comes in a close second. Davy Crocket had it right when he said, you may all go to Hell and I shall go to Texas.” Uncle Billy was met with blank looks. “Oh, never mind. Since I couldn’t let good ammo, guns, and gear go to waste, I did the proper thing and now they’re in the back of my car. That’s it in a nutshell. Besides, don’t mess with Texas, and don’t mess with Uncle Billy.”
“Thank you for that extraordinarily awesome rendition of your trip, Uncle Billy,” Chandler said. “Let’s head back to the hollow log and top off this trunk load.”
“Smart aleck,” Uncle Billy said with a hint of mischief in his voice.
“Uncle Billy, I pity the person who does mess with you.”
Chapter 31
Upon their arrival at Rally Point A, the group sought out familiar faces. Hugs and thanks for finding one another safe followed.
Ryan, with Larry by his side who was holding Anna, asked if anyone had medical supplies. “We have an injured girl who needs medical assistance.”
“I’m a veterinarian,” a man said. “Can I help?”
Ryan approached the man. “I was in med school before the grid went down, and I can handle it. Do you have any medical supplies?”
“I’ve got a nylon bag with various first aid items, some blankets, and a tarp.”
“That’ll do. Thank you.”
Ryan shook out the blanket and put it on the ground. Larry gently placed Anna on the blanket.
Dorothy came running up, emotionally overwhelmed at finding her daughter. An expression of horror spread across her face when she saw her. She knelt next to Anna and touched her forehead. “Baby, what happened?” Before Anna had time to answer, Dorothy threw an angry glance at Dillon. “What have you done to her? You promised you’d keep her safe.”
Dillon opened his mouth to explain, but Ryan answered, “It’s not as bad as it looks. All she needs is a few stitches and a good antiseptic.” He dug around in the nylon bag searching for the items he needed. “She’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Your daughter is a hero, Dorothy,” Dillon said. “You should be proud of her.”
“Is that true?” Dorothy gazed upon Anna with a mixture of motherly love and confusion.
Anna nodded. “I helped break them out, Mommy. I heard them talk about a spy and I couldn’t let anything happen.”
Dorothy gasped at the revelation. “A spy? Here? Who?”
“We don’t know who it is,” Dillon said.
“Oh.” Dorothy glanced at the ground then put an index finger to her face, rubbing her cheek. “I, uh, I don’t know anything about it.” She flicked her eyes to Dillon. “I’m just glad my daughter is okay.”
While Ryan stitched up Anna, Dillon stepped away and motioned for Chandler to join him and Holly. “Gather the people we can trust and ask them to meet me at the pecan tree, over there.” Dillon jerked his head in the direction of the tree. “Specifically, Cassie, Amanda, Nico, Luke, and Uncle Billy. Once Ryan is finished with Anna, we’ll talk with him.”
“Dillon,” Holly said, “I need to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“I had to tell Larry his wife died at the house when the Russians ambushed us.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Not good. He couldn’t believe it at first, and after the initial shock wore off, he started crying and swore he’d kill as many Russians as he could to get back at them for what they did.” Holly stepped closer to Dillon and leaned into him. “There’s been a lot of rumors about who the spy is. By now, Larry is ready to kill anyone who looks guilty.”
Dillon rubbed the stubble on his chin. “We can’t afford to have a hair trigger temper on an operation requiring stealth. I need you to stay with Larry and to keep an eye on him. Can you do that?”
“Of course.”
“When the Russians attack, he’ll be able to channel his anger and take out as many as he can.”
“Okay. Also, you need to hear Nico and Kate’s story before assigning tasks.” Holly stopped talking as people approached her and Dillon. Addressing Nico, she said, “Can you give Dillon a brief rundown on what happened at the Alamo?”
“Sure,” Nico said. He gave a short recap of their Alamo experience, tactics, shootout, and Kate’s bravery, along with the world of drug dealers.
Chandler leaned into Dillon and whispered in his ear. Dillon nodded in agreement.
“Gather ‘round, everybody, and listen up.” Dillon said. “We are going for a two-pronged attack. Mission A will be to defend this area, while Mission B will be to attack the Russian base at the school. If your mission goes badly, take the wounded and survivors to Rally Point B until the rest of us can meet up with you. Cassie and Ryan will proceed with the children and any non-participants to Rally Point B. Use tarps and brush to camouflage your group so the Russian drones do not discover your location. Uncle Billy will supply you with an M-4 or an AK-74. I need to address everyone else now, so good luck, and God speed to you all.”
As the meeting broke up, Dillon took Holly by the elbow and guided her to a spot out of earshot of the others.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I hate to say it, but I’m convinced Dorothy is the traitor. I’m guessing she’ll slip away to warn the Russians at the school when we start to leave. Don’t do anything to stop her, because we are going to use her to our advantage.”
Holly’s eyes flicked around, making sure nobody was listening. “I’ve had my suspicions about her for a while now.”
“Alright, we’re on the same page regarding that.” Dillon searched for
the right words regarding what he needed to say. “If anything happens to me—”
“Shhh,” Holly put her fingers to Dillon’s lips, quieting him. “Don’t say anything else. I’m not prepared to say goodbye to you. Keep the faith that everything will be okay.”
“You’re right. Holly, time’s short. I need to address the rest of the group.”
“I understand.”
Dillon stepped over to a picnic table which he could use as a podium for him to address the gathering crowd. He estimated there were fifty people, ranging in age from a teen to eighty plus. He straightened his back and took a deep breath, his eyes roaming over the crowd, all waiting for guidance from him. He felt honored he had been trusted to lead these people, yet at the same time he felt the weight of responsibility and regret on his shoulders. Some of the people would lose their lives.
“We have little time to accomplish a big task. If every person here was a trained warrior, we could meet the Russians on equal terms. But we have to be realistic. My best fighting days are in the past, a status some of you older veterans share with me.” He noted the heads nodding in agreement. “Some of you are great shots, but have never faced men in battle. Some of you may have little experience with weapons. Regardless, everyone here can help us to secure a victory.
“Our Russian ally, Andrey Koshkin is to my left,” Dillon said. “Andrey, raise your hand so everyone knows who you are.”
Andrey took a step forward, stood for a moment, then stepped back.
“Andrey tells us we are facing fifty trained Russian soldiers. Twenty of them are Spetsnaz, the equivalent of our Special Forces. The Russian leaders are ruthless and will give no quarter to civilians who raise arms against them. I’ve also learned there are two hundred additional soldiers they can call upon from their ship at Beaumont’s harbor, as well as special purpose attack helicopters. Instead of Russian machine guns and grenades we face today, we could be facing missiles and mini-guns launched by some of the most experienced combat pilots in the world. We need to get it right the first time.