Reckoning ~ Indian Hill 2 ~ A Michael Talbot Adventure (27 page)

“What are you doing, Paul? Dennis is down there in the fight of his life and you’re being indecisive!” Ron burst out. Paul was visibly upset. He wasn’t sure if it was because Ron was right or that he had pointed it out in front of one of his enlisted men.

“Ron, I’d appreciate if you kept your opinions to yourself. You don’t understand the situation.”

“What’s not to understand, Paul? The repeated fact that you don’t have a problem with disposing of those closest to you?”

“Ron, get the fuck out now or I’ll have you physically removed,” Paul said with icy cold seriousness.

“Don’t worry, Paul, I was leaving anyway. Unlike you, I’m going to get a firearm and whoever will come with me and go help Dennis and those men.”

“Ron, I will not let you fuck this up. Lance Corporal, escort this man out and make sure he is detained. He is not to leave this compound. If he so much as sees daylight today, your ass will be in front of a firing squad tonight.” Ron stood as if he were about to bull rush the lance corporal. But the lance corporal heeded the colonel’s warning, as well he should. The lance corporal pulled out his pistol and leveled it squarely on Ron’s chest. Ron was heaving with frustration and rage.

“Sir, what about the captain?”

“I’ll take care of that.”

“I’m sure you will, Paul,” Ron sputtered.

“Make sure he is detained! Get him out of here!” The lance corporal waved Ron out of the room with his free hand. Paul got on his radio when the lance corporal left. “Sergeant McCabe! What’s the status on tunnel two?”

“Sir, I briefed you on that last week.”

“What’s the status NOW, goddammit?” The sergeant on the other end was taken aback by the force of the voice.

“Sir, we’ve advanced a few more feet through the collapse but it will be another two weeks or so before we break through.” The sergeant heard the audible pop of the radio clicking off and wondered to himself what he had done to spark such fury in the colonel. He ordered two more details to finish digging out the collapse.

‘I set this shit up to save my loved ones. I’ll be damned if I let another one die.’ Paul thought to himself.

“Major Salazar! Sound the Type I alarm,” Paul ordered. He could tell that the major was lying down by the disorientation in his voice, but he recovered extremely fast.

“Uh sir? Type I alarm? Yes, sir.” More conviction rang in his voice as the realization of the colonel’s words sunk in. “Are we under attack, sir?”

“Yes,” came the succinct reply. Paul knew that his own suspicions were now going through the colonel’s head. “Relax Frank. It’s not the aliens. Not yet, anyway. The Stop and Shop is under attack and our men are outnumbered nearly five to one.”

“Sir, the tunnel is collapsed. How do you propose an assault?”

“I know the tunnel is not serviceable.”

“Sir, we talked about this exact scenario. We’re supposed to let the Stop and Shop fall if this is the case and get it back at our discretion. If we fly out of our hidey-hole like pissed-off ants, somebody is sure to notice.”

“Frank, Dennis is in command down there.” Frank paused and sighed.

“What do you want to do, sir?”

“I want twenty of your alpha platoon to head out of emergency hatch three and go as stealthily and quickly as possible. I then want twenty civilian-looking personnel to head out hatch four and round up any potential scouts. Are we clear, Frank? I want everybody rounded up within one square mile of this facility.”

“We’re clear, sir, but I don’t agree with the risk that you are taking here.”

“That’s why I like you, Frank. You’ve never been a yes man. Now get it done.”

“Right away, sir.”

***

“Have you gotten that damned thing to work yet?” Dennis yelled after his last burst found pay dirt in the scumbag who had come through the produce aisle. The remaining seven UEMC were now pinned behind the deli counter. Glass shards flew everywhere as bullets exploded all around them. Dennis hoped the rebels didn’t have any hand grenades or the battle would come to a quick and nasty conclusion.

“Sergeant, did headquarters get the last message?”

“Captain, I don’t know. The radio operator was shot at almost the same time the radio was.”

'Damn', Dennis thought. It’s another fifteen minutes ‘til the next check in. This little skirmish would be long over before the Hill even realized it had started.

“Sir, I don’t think it will matter even if they got the message. You know the protocol as well as I do. With the supply tunnel temporarily down, the standing order is to let this place fall, if necessary.”

“I know the orders, Sergeant. I just have no desire to die next to cured meats. How are we doing on ammo?”

“We’ve got enough to take them out. I just don’t think we have the manpower to do it.”

“I appreciate the candor, Sergeant, but is this really the time for sarcasm?” Dennis said as he sat down hard on his ass to change his magazine out.

“Sir, they are coming up aisle eight,” an over exuberant private yelled.

"Well, it seems that the fat lady is beginning to warm up." Dennis said.

Shortly, they would be completely flanked and it was only a matter of time.

'Well, at least I’ll go out with a bang', Dennis thought. He stood up to fire off his newest cartridge when a bullet ripped his helmet clean off. Blood flew from the side of his head as he spun downwards, smashing his head on a…What?  A ham? And the world went black for Dennis.

“Colonel’s down, men,” the sergeant shouted over the volley of rounds. “I say we go out in style.” The five remaining soldiers didn’t completely concur with the sergeant’s point of view but they saw the writing on the wall. Better to go out fighting than sitting here huddled together. With that, the six remaining men stood up and shoulder-to-shoulder, momentarily caught the usurpers off guard.

Many of them fell before they gathered their wits; and then numbers and strategic location began to take its toll. One by one, the defenders fell, most of them with multiple wounds, but still they pressed on. When their clips had been emptied, only two survived to rearm--the sergeant and the private who warned about the approach on aisle eight.

“Well, son, it’s just you and me now. No sense in keeping God waiting,” the sergeant said, pride swelling up in his chest. The private really didn’t mind though if God waited, say another fifty or sixty years, but no way was he going to let the sergeant die alone.

The attackers had momentarily ceased their onslaught. They knew what was coming, and they had no desire to be caught off guard again. Let the poor bastards show themselves again; they’d be more than happy to end the day from where they waited. The sergeant was milliseconds away from standing and opening fire when he heard gunfire from outside the store.

“Sergeant! What is that? Are they celebrating their victory before we’re dead?” The private asked. The sergeant didn’t think so.

“Naw! Nobody would waste ammo like that anymore. We’ve got help.”

“Help? From where? No one would come from the Hill.”

“Private, I don’t know, but do you really care from where? Who knows? Maybe it’s one of our patrols.” The sergeant didn’t really believe that because the patrols were usually only four or five people and this sounded like a hell of a lot more gunfire. “I hope it’s not the Hill.”

“Sergeant? Are you crazy? We’re being saved.”

“I’ll never live this down if we survive. I let my commanding officer fall in battle. I didn’t hold our position and then I had to be saved by headquarters. It’s over… No way I’m going out like this.”

The sergeant jumped over what remained of the deli counter and began advancing on the enemy, whose attention had been drawn to the front of the store, to engage in a new battle. The sergeant’s gun began to glow a dull red as he fired away at anyone who retreated from his near suicidal advance and maniacal laugh.

***

The crack alpha squads caught the potential Stop and Shop usurpers completely unaware, so wrapped up were they in the battle being waged at the back of the store. The rescue effort was nearly completed before it was started. The rogue gang did not have the foresight to post a rear guard for such an event. Major Salazar was convinced that they were merely desperate people who had armed themselves, and not a truly organized force.

A few of the more desperate individuals made for the side doors to try to salvage what little of their existence still remained. Under normal conditions, Major Salazar would have allowed their retreat, but too much was at stake now. “Lieutenant Braverly, I do not want any prisoners,” the major shouted over the finale of shots being fired.

Lieutenant Braverly, a slender man of Australian descent, saluted and motioned for his squad to peel off from the main assault. He had been a career soldier in the Australian Royal Guard and knew exactly what the major ordered him to do. He dispatched his men with not so much as a flicker of disobedience in his eyes.

Major Salazar had seen his fair share of bloodshed but had never come across someone with such a predisposition for warfare as Lieutenant Braverly. The man struck a chord of fear deep within Salazar’s soul. It was something he couldn’t quite grasp, but possibly stemmed from the man’s penchant for cold and calculating precision. He seemed more robot than human, at times.

Major Salazar had known the man for something close to a year and, for the life of him, never remembered ever seeing the man smile. The major watched in detachment as Lieutenant Braverly’s men closed in on and dispatched of the enemy, as if sweeping up a dirty floor. Lieutenant Braverly had hand-picked his men most likely because they, for the most part, matched his persona. Major Salazar thought these men might need some further investigation, but thus far, their record of accomplishment had been second to none.

“If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. That’s what my dad used to say,” the major muttered as he headed towards the back of the store where he hoped to find Captain Waggoner safe. What the major saw, however, both shocked and amazed him. His good friend and one of his commander’s best friends was lying in a pool of blood. He was hard pressed to call it a pool; it looked like a small pond, so much blood was lost. He still saw Captain Waggoner attempt to move. Major Salazar was in momentary shock. There was no way somebody could lose that much blood and still be trying to hold on to life.

“Relax, Frank, it’s not mine, at least not most of it,” Dennis said as he sat up with great effort. His head was ringing like Big Ben. “Could you please stop letting flies land in your mouth and get over here and help me up?”

Frank walked over, extending his hand, valiantly trying to retain a good footing on the slick, bloodstained tile. Dennis grabbed his helmet as Frank hefted him up. Both men gaped at the helmet wondering how anyone could survive from the bullet hole. The slug had entered the helmet dead square in the center of Dennis’ forehead, but was deflected by the sturdy Kevlar armor. The bullet veered hard right instead and scraped the side of Dennis’ skull. He bled out like a stuck pig but, beyond not getting haircuts for a while, he was no worse for the wear.

“You might just be the luckiest man on the planet, Dennis!” Frank said as he slapped Dennis on the shoulder. That rattled Dennis’ brain almost more than the bullet. He winced some, but not enough to ruin Frank’s exuberance.

“I don’t know if losing almost all of my squad would fall under luck, Frank.” Frank nodded and held his tongue for a respectful moment of silence before he spoke.

“Part of that might be true, Dennis, but you held your post against a force five times your size and they ambushed you.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Frank, but now the matter becomes, why did they surprise us? There’s no way that this many guys should have been able to just waltz on up here. I want to know where every listening post was assigned today and I want to know who was manning them,” Dennis said. His heart was beginning to beat more rapidly at the thought of betrayal from within, and his heart’s hammering did nothing to quell the throbbing in his head. Dennis paled for a moment and caught Frank’s shoulder.

“I’ll get that for you, Dennis, but right now I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

“I wish I had the strength to tell you to go fuck yourself, but that sounds like a pretty good idea to me,” Frank snorted as he put his arm around his comrade and walked him out. He made sure to make it look more like they were coming out as brothers-in-arms, instead of acting as the physical support, he felt that Dennis needed. He could tell Dennis’ knees were wobbly at best, but still he threw on the brave front.

“Only you could be shot in the head and walk away from it,” Frank said as he smiled.

“Well, I was always told there wasn’t much in there anyway. I guess this just proves it. By the way, how did you guys get down here? I thought the tunnel wasn’t going to be ready for another couple of weeks.”

“We didn’t use the tunnel.” Dennis looked perplexed for a moment before the realization hit.

“Don’t tell me you used the escape hatches? You and I both know that could jeopardize this whole operation.”

“I let him know that; and we do have a contingency plan in effect as we speak.”

“What is it?” Dennis questioned.

“Don’t worry about that now, we have more serious threats to our immediate safety.”