Vampire's Day (Book 2): Zero Model (13 page)

48.
Military preparations

The landing of the airborne battalion on a mountain pass and commanding heights was in full swing. Alerted local army allocated for this operation best powers, receiving tacit but strong support from the Chinese mining company. A MI17, with missiles and automatic guns fixed on pylons, landed on the tiny landing sites, dropping off troops and equipment, and then took off again to make room for the next machine and return to the base for a new load.

A pass and narrow gravel road covered a small outpost; the Cartel had built it on a rocky ledge, which offered an excellent view of both sides. Five years ago this place had been a key point in the defense of the valley and there was heavy fighting, but the days of war were long gone, and now the outpost was used to collect taxes from ordinary traders and farmers and not for the protection of the undeclared border.

Paratroopers planned a swift operation to capture the outpost, but it wasn’t required due to the absence of the enemy - the personnel of the outpost had escaped from the position at dawn, having received reports of heavy fighting with the living dead in the city, evidenced by a blazing glow in the western sky. Now the abandoned outpost would be the main stronghold of the government troops, to keep the quarantine barrier.

Helicopters delivered more than just soldiers - also large tents, field kitchens, diesel generators and even a pair of light wheeled tractors with dozer blades, which were beginning to block the road with stone rubble. They raised powerful radio antenna, and, using hammers and explosives, engineers cut into the rocks to create places for automatic grenade launchers and light machine guns. After finishing the construction of the barricades, the tractors began to dig trenches for a battery of Soviet 160 mm mortars, which would be the main caliber in these narrow gorges.

Sniper teams took positions on the goat trails around the pass, while engineers set controlled minefields behind stone barricades, and above all hovered drones, like condors made of metal and plastic. One of them headed into the valley.

“Any new information?” Not looking up from the screen, Mr. Nguyen hailed Mr. Lao, who had just finished a conversation on his secure phone.

“Nothing. Head office knows even less than we do, the usual information channels haven’t provided anything. At the moment, we can neither confirm or deny the American’s message, and they aren’t saying anything new. It’s the same as this morning - an atypical rabies outbreak, infection is transmitted just through blood, the infected are extremely aggressive and dangerous, especially if they have a firearm. Where the epidemic began, how many infected there are at the moment, how fast the disease spreads, what the death rate will be, if there is any treatment – all of this is unknown. The task for the government army is to lock down the passes. The Yankee showed them this position, clearly indicating that they are in charge in the valley, and will not tolerate anyone else.”

“I ordered all my men to gather at the airport, to be vigilant and not to leave the city unless absolutely necessary; I recommend doing the same on your plants. In the meantime, let's see what is being done in the valley.”

The unmarked drone slid across a cloudless sky, passing over a burning village at the foot of the mountain road, the lower camera panning from side to side, looking over the battlefield.

“If this is an outbreak of rabies, why there are battles using artillery and armored vehicles?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Lao, but we will try to find out. We’ll try to get closer to the base.”

49. Common efforts

“We don’t yet know what causes them to attack those who haven’t been infected, but for us that isn’t so important; that is for the scientists to work out. What is important now is that the infected will attack our base, and this attack is going to happen in the next day, most likely, or perhaps tonight. Miss Palmer confirmed that after two days the infected definitively have reduced memory, and turn into a herd of mindless creatures, the destruction of which will not be difficult. But until then they represent a threat because of their significant numerical advantage.”

The Colonel paused for a moment, taking a sip of black coffee without sugar, then continued, turning to a huge map and pointing to a pass with a bright laser pointer.

“The local military has taken this line and met some infected when they tried to break through the pass. After that, the surviving infected will now attack us. They might be up to five thousand or more, mostly armed with small arms, mortars, anti-tank missiles and MANPADS, a large number of explosives, and armor of all possible types. They have no artillery, except perhaps old Soviet recoilless guns, which aren’t dangerous at long range.”

I also have no artillery, Richardson thought irritably, evaluating the potential enemy forces. I have helicopters, attack and reconnaissance drones, armored vehicles and patrol boats, but not even a single howitzer battery, the rapid fire of which could overturn any living wave, no matter how strong it was.

“These loonies are dangerous because they almost don’t feel pain, and can continue to fight for some time, even after receiving a mortal wound. Like a mad dog, we can’t scare them with fire or heavy losses; they don’t feel fear, so the marines need to be clearly told not to save ammo and grenades. Shoot to kill. Among the infected are women and children, and the marines must be prepared for this. We will fight not only for ourselves. Under our protection are more than two thousand civilians whose safety we must ensure. This is the hardest part of our job…”

Boris wasn’t aware of the Colonel’s battle plan, but he was forced to take an active part in the preparation for this battle - along with five hundred other men from the refugee camp he was sent to build a defensive line. Since these civilians are here, and no one was going to evacuate them, they should be used for the construction of a defensive line, reasoned Richardson.

His small base was hastily transformed into a fortress, and the construction of the fortress needed workers. Women could be used in the dining room, and the men would dig trenches. The Colonel didn’t want to use marines for this work; they should be given a rest before the fight.

Boris managed to sleep about three hours on his bunk in the tent, before he and everyone else was awakened by a siren at half past three in the morning.

“Attention!”

The civilians didn’t immediately realize what the officers wanted. The refugees were waiting for evacuation, and instead got a job placement. Several dozen engineers and mechanics were sent to the base, to use their skills for the benefit of the military, while others went to the earthworks.

The builders and workers calmly obeyed this turn of events, but many managers, who had come to the plant for large salaries, weren’t pleased to take shovels and picks in their well-groomed hands. Many of them tried to fight the sudden change of profession, but with one look at the woman with the captain's epaulets, Boris realized the futility of their pathetic attempts. The Captain and marines didn’t come here to negotiate, they came to give orders.

“You are on a naval base, subject to command, and must obey orders. Failure to comply with these orders and refusing to work will be punished - a three-day deprivation diet. And now - to build a column!”

Some bonehead in an expensive suit still didn’t understand what was happening and ran to the Captain, yelling that he would take them to court. Standing to the right of the Captain, the marine made a short movement and the bonehead folded in half due to a crushing blow to the groin. After that, they began the job calmly and in an orderly fashion, the managers realizing that the joke was over.

“Get the tools!”

In the back of two trucks were hundreds of shovels and other sapper tools. The marine wanted to give him a folding shovel, but Boris grabbed a pick on a long wooden handle. The marine didn’t object.

50.
Excavation

“You fifty men are working platoon A! The next fifty - working platoon B! Next fifty…”

So, he was in working platoon A, and next to him were forty-nine new colleagues. The working platoons formed quickly. Boris saw the marine jerk the bonehead in the expensive suit to his feet, hand him a steel hack into trembling hands and send him to platoon B.

“A Platoon - get rations and clothing!”

He expected that they would be given standard rations, but he instead received only a liter water bottle and a package of unsweetened army chocolate. Clothing was distributed after the chocolate and water. Boris took the building gloves, the canvas overalls with spots of paint on the sleeve and the faded, limp hat. Previously, he’d had a cap showing the company logo, but that had been lost somewhere in the moment when he left the burning truck, and now he needed a new hat. In this heat a man couldn’t work without a hat.

“Boris!”

It was Natasha. She had been assigned to work in the dining room. He thought that the girl would make a fuss about this, like many other women had done, but Natasha agreed to her new status of dishwasher without further ado. The girl was smart.

“Boris, when will you get back?”

“I don’t know, probably after sunset. I'll see you again!”

They couldn’t continue the conversation, as trucks came and the working platoon began loading. Through old habit Boris took his place at the rear, looking around and remembering the way. The road wasn’t long; they left the camp and went along the minefield. After a few turns in the road, they stopped behind a low hill. The refugee camp wasn’t visible, but he could see warehouses and high harbor cranes.

“Ten workers - out!”

Boris jumped off first, while the rest followed slowly and awkwardly.

“You will be equipped for a firing position here. Marines will protect you and show you what to do. Carry out their orders without question. Under no circumstances leave this place, we're surrounded by mines!”

The truck drove on, and two Marines briefly explained to them what to do, give the command to start, and then settled at the foot of the hill, exchanging dirty jokes.

The soil on which they had to work was dry and hard, despite the heavy rain yesterday. But it was still soil, and not stone, and the pick would easily handle it, especially if you were accustomed to such work. People who weren’t accustomed had it harder, thought Boris, looking at a sweating bald civilian in small glasses, awkwardly wielding a shovel. Quite possibly, this was the first time in his life he had done this.

“Look, Mr…”

“Boris.”

“Boris, listen. I know who are you, you guard the Russian girl. I saw you at the factory.”

“Yes? I don’t know you.”

“My name is Donahue, but it doesn’t matter now. I heard from others that when our column was attacked, you saved a lot of people, and I admire that. You obviously have experience in dealing with such situations. Were you in the war?”

“I was in the army.”

“In the Russian army, right? That's good. I've not served, like most of the people here. You want to smoke?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“I'm trying to quit, but now won’t die without a cigarette. Hey, guys!”

Donahue asked the Marines for a smoke but was laughed away. He wasn’t discouraged. In his hands, as if by magic, appeared fifty dollars and then he had his smoke, with several other cigarettes in his pocket.

“Don’t stop working.”

“Yeah. Listen, its forced labor, as in the Gulag. I watched a movie about it. We don’t have to work here; we aren’t liable for military service. We had to be evacuated; civilians must be evacuated from the war zone. And we are here, digging into the ground.”

“Exactly. And I advise you to keep digging. The officers weren’t kidding about leaving you without rations for three days for insubordination.”

“I do know that, and it's what worries me. It's all very serious. Tell me, do you know what we are digging here? I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem like a trench.”

“This is the artillery trench, the position for a mortar.”

“Yes, of course, artillery. So, they are preparing for a serious fight, right?”

Boris didn’t answer immediately, taking time to look around. He saw several other sapper teams. Obviously, the marines were building a defensive line that would cover the harbor from possible attacks from the valley. The Yankees were preparing to take a defensive perimeter. But against whom? Judging by the distant cannonade, the battles were now somewhere in the foothills, on the opposite side of the valley.

“Yes, it’s possible that we are waiting for a defensive battle. Don’t ask me against whom, I don’t know.”

“When will the battle be?”

“I have no idea. But I don’t expect the evacuation before the battle begins. The command has time to do it now - the airport is free, the sky is clear, but no one uses it. For some reason, we are staying here.”

“If they start a battle, could we be sent into the fight?”

“Donahue, have you fired a real gun? A machine gun or assault rifle?”

“A couple of times I went to hunt ducks with my wife father's, that’s all.”

“Then don’t worry. The marines will not use you in a bayonet charge. Just dig them this firing position, and they will be happy.”

The sun was setting as they continued to dig, and the cannonade from the mountains didn’t stop.

“And if the marines win the battle, what would happen next? What will happen if the war drags on, and we don’t evacuate? Boris, please understand the reason for my concern. I don’t know anything about military affairs, but I understand other things. I am engaged in the wholesale trade of food and other small items: toothpaste, disposable dishes and toilet paper. I was just here on business - my company provides the plant personnel with food. I don’t know how to dig mortar positions, but I know very well how much is required to provide two and a half thousand people. Without going into details, it’s hundreds of tons of cargo every month.”

“Get to the point, Mr. Donahue.”

“OK. The plant is usually serviced twice a month by two cargo aircraft. The last load should have arrived this morning, and of course, didn’t come. They don’t hold large stocks here; it was believed that keeping stock wasn’t profitable, especially because of having to build freezers.”

“So, how much time do we have? Do you know?”

“I know, and what is what worries me. Six, a maximum of seven days. If we seriously cut the rations, the reserve can be spread out over a couple of weeks, that's all. I don’t know about drugs, but it’s unlikely that there are many. Because the marines weren’t ready for our arrival, they didn’t know they would have to feed us at their own expense. If we are stuck, then we can have very serious problems. I saw these parachutes in the sky when we left the factory. It was landing containers. Did you also see them?”

Boris had seen huge parachutes that morning, and also saw transport aircraft at high altitude. If Donahue wasn’t wrong with his calculations, they would really be in trouble. For the whole day no aircraft had landed at the airport and there were none taking off. The Hercules stood motionless and only helicopters landed and took off near the toy town. And now USAF had started to supply them, dropping containers, instead of just landing on an empty airfield.

Aircraft containers were a mediocre logistical method, which was used when nothing else could be done, usually in the case of enemies lurking in the environment. In the Stalingrad battle, Germans in this way had tried to prolong the agony of the Sixth Field Army, dying from hunger, cold and typhoid. They had sent slow cargo Junkers through dense anti-aircraft fire and squadrons of Soviet fighters. To Goering this idea had cost five hundred aircraft, and he failed in the rescue of Paulus and his gang.

Were they surrounded here? It didn’t seem like the truth, but USAF was supplying them, dropping containers from airplanes, instead of just landing on the airfield. Why was it so difficult? In addition, there was another way to bring in cargo – this was a naval base, you could bring in a cargo ship with everything you needed. But there were no ships in the harbor, and they waved shovels and pickaxes, hastily building a defensive line. It did indeed seem like a war environment, except that the enemy wasn’t visible yet.

“Well, I'm willing to admit that we have here something very strange, for which I can’t find an explanation, and we might be seriously threatened. What are your suggestions? You want to offer me something, don’t you, Mr. Donahue?”

“All I want is to quickly get out of here and go home to my wife and children. I have a well-established, secure life and I'm not going to change this life for one of war.

Help me get out of here, and I'll pay you well for it. Maybe I am just paranoid, and tonight we’ll be put on a plane and will be taken out to a safe place. If so, I'll give you and your girlfriend a great lunch at the first expensive restaurant as an apology for my worry. But if things go bad, if the war starts, and we find ourselves at the front line, I want you to be with me, and help me to survive. You will succeed; I've seen that you can save the people close to you. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. Cover me, help get out of here, and I'll pay you a quarter of a million dollars. Cash in hand, and then we can part as though we never met. How do you like this offer?”

“So, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash?”

“Yes.”

“OK, let's see what I can do. To begin with, listen to my instructions and follow them exactly, I am now your senior officer. And another thing – don’t even think about escaping from the base. We are surrounded by minefields, and all approaches are in the sight of machine guns. In addition, according to the shooting in the mountains, being within the perimeter is a lot safer than outside. We will wait for our chance. You got it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“OK. Then continue to dig.”

Boris struck several blows, and then his attention was attracted by a sharp stone shard that caused sparks to leap from the pick. The shard was small, just the size to fit into his hand. Boris remembered an old Soviet book, which he had in childhood - it said that primitive people use such stone shards as knives.