Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) (75 page)

“Yes, sir,” the captain replied.

About that time, Cox saw a UN soldier running up the hillside.

He pulled his pistol on the man and was surprised at the response.

“Don’t shoot, Lieutenant Colonel. I’m an American.”

Cox grabbed the man by his uniform shirt and pulled him down.

“Explain yourself, Lee,” Cox demanded. He had already identified him by his name tag.

Ryan began telling his story, but was cut short when the sounds of heavy artillery rounds began tearing up the highway below.

“Danger close,” Cox shouted. Every remaining Marine, along with Ryan Lee, stood up and began heading for the top of the hill.
Danger close
was a term that signified air support, artillery fire, and any other close-proximity assistance provided by friendly fire. In this case, the UN forces were being bombarded. The weapons company commander had a vantage point from his position where he would be able to provide impressive and overwhelming fire support to his battalion commander, but given the size of the enemy force, opening a suppressive and continued fire from his concealed position would give their location away. In essence, he would be signing their death sentences. It was the forward observers that John James sent for that had found Cox’s weapons company.

The enemy forces began their retreat into the town of Hot Springs. Their intel showed that it was still occupied with Americans. Enemy command knew that the Americans would not engage the town with artillery if it meant destroying their own.

NORAD

“No word yet on the attack?” Major Hodges asked the controller.

“They’re still engaging enemy fighters, sir.”

“How many of ours are down?”

“Three.”

“How many tangos have been destroyed?”

“Seven. Their skill level is obviously inferior, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Sir?” another controller called out.

“What is it?” Hodges asked as he moved into position behind the man.

“The main force is retreating into Hot Springs. It has a few remaining civilians. Unknown population, sir.”

“Get me Whiskey Black.”

An Undisclosed Location Near Black Hills, South Dakota

Rick
 was still monitoring the radio when it erupted,
“Whiskey Black from Iron Horse, come in. over.”

The general grabbed the mic and responded, “Go for Whiskey Black.”

“Whiskey Black, withdraw your troops from Hotel Sierra. Large incoming. Over.”

The general knew he was referring to Hot Springs, and pieced together the large enemy force was inbound to Cox’s location, or what he believed to be Cox’s location. The general still had no knowledge that Cox had not reported back to the Hot Springs area, where he was supposed to rejoin with Howard to secure the Super Stallions.

“Copy that,” he responded and handed the mic back to
Rick
.

“Get me Lieutenant Colonel Cox.”

Rick
called out on the radio, “Whiskey Black Three, come in. Over.”

The radio was silent. All the men in the room waited and anticipated a return call from Cox, but there was just silence. Cox’s radioman had been killed in action, his body and his radio mixed together in a jumbled hillside mess somewhere along South Dakota Highway 18.

After several failed attempts, they finally received a call, but it was from Weapons Company.

“Eagle’s nest, Whiskey Black Three is down. Over.”

“Did he just say
down
?” John asked Hensworth.

“It sounded like he said they were down, sir.”

John snatched the mic from
Rick’s 
hand. “Whiskey Black Three, repeat. Over.”

Anticipation built as they waited for the clarification that wouldn’t come.

“Whiskey Black Three is down. Heavy casualties sustained … requesting—”

The signal went dead mid-sentence.

“Whiskey Black Three, come in. Over. Whiskey Black Three, come in. Over,” he repeated himself, but the signal was lost.

“We’re spread too thin, sir. We have the regiment parsed to cover entry points. Now we know where they are. Exactly where they are. I recommend we shell Hot Springs into oblivion,” Hensworth said.

John slammed his fist down onto the table and took a close look at the map. Hensworth could see he was deep in thought as if some sudden revelation had sprang into his mind from the netherverse.

“Get Howard out of there and recall the regiment. It’s going to be dark soon.”

The Old Steelworks Plant, East Chicago, Indiana

Darkness had moved in quickly for the posse. Anticipation had a way of slowing down time, but it was the moments when you wanted time to slow that it went by all the quicker.

Everybody was in their positions. Denny, Jess, Tori, and Nathan were moments away from breaching the compound. From what Richards could tell from his position, the guards were sitting on their posts. He needed to distract them in such a way that they would be lured outside. Taking his binoculars in hand, he looked through to find Nathan, Denny, Jess, and Tori were in position. Security was weak, and the physical structure would be an easy breach because the perimeter wall was surrounded by trailers and power poles. Getting in would be the easy part; not getting spotted would be slightly more difficult.

“Troy, from Richards, we’re a go. Over,” Richards said, now looking through his binoculars at Troy’s position on the southeast side of the wall. He watched Troy through the binoculars as he spoke into his mic the response,
“Ten-Four.”

Troy looked at his men and said, “All right, guys, it’s showtime.”

Each of them moved into position and took cover behind whatever they could find. The object of choice for most of them were broken-down vehicles just off the interstate. There were plenty of them, too. East Chicago, Indiana, once boasted a population of thirty-five thousand people at the moment of the Flip. After that, the population steadily declined as the United Nations continued to follow through on their Agenda 21 action.

Troy had a night optic mounted to his AR. It was loaned to him by Sergeant Banks, who knew the importance of the mission. The optical sight took available atmospheric light and had a form of technology that amplified it, giving the appearance of a brighter day. The downside was that everything he saw had a green hue to it.

Once Troy was ready, he looked through the sight and found a guard sitting at his post. He took aim and placed his finger on the trigger of his rifle. The crosshairs of the sights were situated on the head of the tower guard. Troy took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He began the slow and steady process of pulling the trigger to the rear of the well. A millisecond before his round exited the barrel, the compound’s lights came on, blinding him temporarily and rendering Troy’s shooting eye useless. The round missed its target and harmlessly bounced off the bulletproof window. He wouldn’t have hit the guard anyway. The lights were amplified in the optical sight and caused the shot to impact a few inches away from what might have been a fatal shot, if not for the bulletproof glass.

The guard jumped to his feet and called out on his radio. With the lights from the compound shining onto the ground around it, Troy and his men were unable to see what they were shooting at with any precision.

“Just start shooting towards them,” he called out. “Maintain your cover.”

The men started shooting towards the wall. They weren’t paying attention to much of anything else except their targets.

Captain Richards and his men were not in a position that rendered them incapacitated from the perimeter lights.

The tower guard above Troy’s position gave his attention to the shooters, allowing Nathan, Denny, Jess, and Tori to make their way over the concrete structure, using a tall supply trailer that was parked near it. Nathan had a long rope with a grappling hook that was supplied to him by Troy. They didn’t need it going in, but they had no way of knowing what kind of escape they might have to make, or how hastily, upon their exit. Once they were inside, they would be unseen by Captain Richards.

Now that Nathan, Denny, Tori, and Jess were inside the compound, he gave the call to Troy to cease fire. He did so and disappeared into the darkness. With the tower guards now focused on finding the attackers, Richards gave the order to the snipers to take their shots. He provided the countdown.

“On one,” he said, beginning the count. “Five, four, three, two.” Four simultaneous shots rang out into the night, and then there was silence.

Once Nathan, Jess, Tori, and Denny were inside, they noticed a strong pungent odor of rotting flesh. There were also formations of ash blown up against the wall and in the corners, very similar to snow drifts. The air was especially moist that evening, and that assisted in controlling the movement of the ashes. As they looked upward toward the main structure, they could see the plume of smoke as it dissipated over the entire southwestern area of Lake Michigan. The soft snow-like flakes fell upon their faces as it had been for the past few hours. Only now it seemed all the more real.

They hunkered down against the interior wall. Each of them had their backs resting against it, facing outward. They were covering their noses and breathing through their mouths.

Tori reached out and scooped some of the fine ash into her hands, then blew it out into the air.

“You do know what that is, right?” Jess asked her.

“Yeah, it’s ancient America,” she retorted.

The response made them all ponder. Tori broke the silence.

“We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s do this,” she said, taking off before they could discuss the route.

Nathan looked at Jess, almost as if he were waiting for her to comment on Tori.

“Don’t look at me; she’s your old fling.”

“We never flung!”

“Flung? You’re so stupid.”

“Let’s go before she gets herself shot.”

Nathan moved past Jess, and Denny followed behind him. Jess maintained rear security as they moved forward. The group soon met back up with Tori, who was peering around the corner of a shipping container. The rest of them stacked up behind her.

“What do you see?” Nathan asked her.

“Check out those tracks,” she said, pointing down to a trail that was cut into the ground by the circling interior security guards.

“When do you think they’ll be around?” Jess asked.

“Not sure,” Nathan said. “When we were scoping the place out, this particular area was a blind spot. But there were two guards, remember? Besides, with the distraction outside, I doubt they’ll be around for a while. They’re probably taking a secure position somewhere and preparing for an attack of their own.”

Tori thought for a second then offered up a suggestion. “We can come up with an idea to lure them in this way; then you two can put on their uniforms,” she said, pointing at Denny and Nathan.

“That’s not a bad idea, boss,” Denny said, looking at Nathan with a hint of a shoulder shrug.

“Okay. That way we can get a better visual on exactly what we’re dealing with in here,” Nathan concluded.

“I’ll grab their attention,” Tori said, taking off again and disappearing around the corner.

“She’s a ticking time bomb, Nathan,” Jess said, pointing to where Tori used to be positioned.

“She’s changed. She’s not the way I remember her,” he responded.

Jess liked the answer. She was intimidated by Tori and moderately jealous of her relationship with Nathan. The idea that she was changed gave her hope that Nathan wasn’t really interested in her anymore. She wanted to know for certain, so she posed the question. “Well, what do you think of her now?”

Nathan knew Jess was probing into his feelings for Tori for a particular reason. He and Jess had developed a relationship that they hadn’t had any real time to discuss. It was more emotional than anything. He was attracted to her personality, her candor, and her character in general. He enjoyed her company immensely; in fact, this was probably the first time he was able to think about a serious relationship with Jess. Tori wasn’t who she used to be. She seemed reckless, almost as if she placed no real value on her own life. She seemed to live for one purpose: revenge.

What will she be like after she avenges herself? Will she be too broken to repair? Will she ever be the old Tori I used to know and had a major crush on?
These were the questions Nathan asked himself.

“I think she’s an asset to the team,” he replied. “But not when she runs off like this.” He paused for a moment to look at Denny. He wasn’t blind to the way Denny had been looking at Tori. He thought this would be as good an opportunity as any to declare his feelings to Jess.

“I choose you, Jess,” Nathan said, looking at Denny. When Denny made eye contact with him, he knew there was an understanding between the two best friends.

Jess caught the body language. She was just as good at reading paralanguage as Nathan was, maybe more so. She smiled at Nathan, then looked away.

“Where is she?” Jess asked.

Tori returned about that time and said, “Hey, guys, we got a problem.”

Midnight, December 16, 2032

The Outskirts of Hot Springs, South Dakota

Lieutenant Colonel Cox was hunkered down behind a tree overlooking the town. He still had Ryan Lee by the collar as if to solidify his control over his whereabouts. He was down to seventy men. The weapons company Marines had been located by enemy forces and engaged in combat. They were overwhelmed and forced to retreat. They returned to their original assignment, which was undisclosed, and waited to hear from command.

Cox was feeling tremendous loss and was overwhelmed with a sense of incompetence and was completely dismayed over the events that had unfolded, ultimately costing him the lives of one hundred forty men. He had no radiomen among the survivors and was unable to make contact with any other possible survivors from the supporting weapons company.

“Now you’re going to tell me exactly what their plans are,” Cox said to Lee with a grizzled voice. He spoke through his gnashing teeth as a man on the brink of losing his military bearing.

The infantry units assigned to Cox were scattered across the area. Many of them regrouped and returned to their initial undisclosed location. Many of the battalion leaders knew they were supposed to regroup at the Super Stallions. When they had made it back to their location, they discovered that the Super Stallions were gone. Unknown to most, the commandant had called back the choppers at news of the two large incoming UN regiments; they were safely evacuated, despite Cox’s failure to secure them.

“They told us to march to Hot Springs, meet up with the scout party, and await further instructions,” Lee answered.

“Tell me what you know about the 21
^st
.”

“The 21
^st
?”

“Don’t play coy with me, traitor,” Cox said, pulling his 9mm from its holster and pressing it into Lee’s temple.

“I swear to you, I don’t know anything about the 21
^st
. Is that some kind of date or something?”

“You’re right, you don’t know anything, and you’re useless to me.”

Cox was about to pull the trigger, but hesitated. He remembered that a gunshot would give away his position in the darkness.

“I’m not useless, sir. I can help.”

“How’s that?” Cox’s attention was now grabbed. “You finally have something of use to me, then?”

“I’m in full UN military gear. I can get you comm gear.”

Cox knew the idea was a good one. Not knowing the placement of the enemy units put him at a distinct disadvantage, but having the ability to communicate an evac of what was left of his troops was a definite improvement over their current condition.

“What do you propose?” Cox asked.

“First of all, I want you to trust me. I followed
you
up the hill. I was given to that UN unit. I was volunteered by my commander, and it was against my will. I got it because I was the boot, the newbie, nobody else would go, so they made me. Now I’m back where I belong. Please trust me to be an American again.”

Cox looked into the eyes of Lee. His face was lit up by nothing more than moonlight, but there was something in his voice that made him want to trust Lee.

Lee could see Cox was trying to analyze the problem and come up with an answer to his plea, so he added one final sentence before relenting to Cox. “Please! I never renounced my status as a patriot. You know what happens to deserters.”

Cox let go of his collar and put his 9mm away. “What’s your plan, scrub? Just waltz in?”

“Precisely,” he answered before he stood up and headed towards town.

A Previously Undisclosed Location Near Provo, South Dakota

Hidden in the canyons ten miles southwest of Hot Springs, General John James had regrouped the 21
^st
Marines. The reason for being parsed to begin with was the lack of knowledge from where the inevitable attack would be coming. Now that they had resources in NORAD, they were able to predict the incoming attack, but not before it almost wiped out Cox’s battalion. It was John who had failed to contact Howard regarding the impending attack, but it was Cox’s unit that paid the price. A few weapons company Marines with their crew-served weapons made it back in time to tell their story to the general. He was disheartened by the loss and sent out a Recon unit to locate any survivors.

The rest of the 21
^st
Marines were gathered together in a regiment formation to listen to their general speak. Without a microphone it was difficult to hear every detail. His voice echoed off the canyon walls, causing his speech to reach the ears of most of the men, but the volume was less than superb.

“Gentlemen, today we suffered the loss of life. I would like to tell you that it was an overwhelming victory on our part, but that would be most deceptive. We had a timespan of about forty minutes to take action on reports of two large incoming enemy regiments. Instead of using that time to call in Lieutenant Colonels Cox and Howard, I called in the howitzers and positioned some forward observers to call in artillery. Cox had been ordered to destroy an advanced party of fighters and to join Lieutenant Colonel Howard, but he remained at the initial point of contact and was met with heavy firepower; a few survived. We have not heard from Cox, and we have coordinated a search and rescue op with Colonel Buchanan’s Recon Marines. I have also sent Recons into the belly of the beast. They will provide to us a sitrep.

“In the meantime, I expect each of you to conduct a battle-rattle check on one another to make sure we maintain absolute silence for the upcoming mission. We can expect heavy resistance, but if we succeed, and we will succeed, we will have delivered a fatal blow to our unwelcomed invaders.

“We have considered the option of calling down fire on the Hot Springs area, but concluded that the loss of friendlies, despite the utter annihilation of the enemy, is not a standard we want to raise in this new world, where liberty was born.

“And so, when I dismiss you, you can stand down, collect yourselves, and your individual company commanders will give you the situation report as soon as we hear back from Buchanan’s men.”

Buchanan had already sent several of his reconnaissance Marines into the vicinity of Hot Springs to access and gather intelligence on the enemy. Soon he would be leading an attack on the enemy. Excitement filled the air and his Marines were ready to get back into the fight, but Buchanan was worried that the 21
^st
had lost the element of surprise. The blue hats knew the Marines were aware of their presence and maybe even setting up a counteroffensive of their own, a possible trap that Buchanan wanted to spring, but not at the cost of more lives.

Ten Miles Northeast

Recon platoon was creeping silently through the wooded area surrounding Hot Springs. The area was full of cliffs, hills, forested areas, and flatlands. Their sophisticated forward-looking infrared goggles gave them the edge in nighttime operations.

The Chinese had stopped supplying the UN with the necessary technology it needed to overcome the Americans because of an ongoing investigation into the death of Ambassador Pao. A death orchestrated by none other than Executive Commander Abdul Muhaimin. While direct evidence against the executive commander was shortcoming, evidence pointed to a group he had very tight associations with in the past: the Black Death, a unit from his jihadi days. They were the most feared unit involved in the jihadist wars. The members of the group had sworn eternal allegiance to Muhaimin. To betray his commands meant giving up their place in paradise. That was a thought nobody wanted to dwell on.

The Marines were tightly wrapped in black matte body suits that didn’t reflect light. With proper training they were able to move through the darkness and look like nothing more than shadows.

The UN had posted a few men in these elevated positions to maintain a visual over the area. The Recon platoon was divided into squads, each with the same goal: to collect intelligence on the enemy camp. Their call sign was Tango Side, because they were being assigned to monitor from the terrorist side of the situation.

From what they could see, the enemy had placed the city in a state of martial law. After the Flip, Hot Springs went without electricity, but refused to fall in line with the mandatory RFID chipping and the curfews. The government’s hand rarely reached out this far into the desolate parts of America. When it did, they would cut it off and prove to be too much of a nuisance to worry about. The way the administration saw it, they would soon starve and beg to be integrated into the new world order. Many constituents did, but many did not. With thousands of UN troops now at their door, they had no choice but to fall in line.

Random shots were heard from the city. Occasionally, the Recons would see a civilian brought out into the streets and executed with a bullet to the back of the head. There were a few groups of civilians that had been rounded up like cattle, slaughtered, and put on an open display for the town to see. Bodies littered the streets, and some dead were hanging from old power poles as if to act out crucifixions.

The Recons took many notes on their comings and goings, including maps of where they had their vehicles and gear staged and what types of crew-served weapons they had.

One Marine was scanning a nearby area of the wilderness when he noticed several dozen men lying prone, overlooking the town. Their bodies showed up as heat sources in his FLIR goggles (forward-looking infrared). It didn’t make sense to the Marine, so he reported it to the rest of his platoon. Closing in on the warm bodies were a pair of armed UN soldiers, one of them had a radio on his back. They were patrolling the area but seemed unaware of the group of people lying prone in the woods.

Another squad of Recon Marines were near the area that was reported to contain the warm bodies, so they located the enemy soldiers and crept silently into position behind them. Moving carefully through the woods, they stepped as the soldiers stepped until they were able to grab the soldiers and stab them through the throat, rendering them unable to call for help. The stabs to the throat were followed up with cuts to the jugular and carotid veins. The men went limp fast and were lowered to the ground silently. Their weapons were taken, as was their radio. The only sounds that were left were the pine and cedar tree needles rustling in the wind.

Hell Canyon, Ten Miles Southwest of Hot Springs

While Buchanan was pondering the situation, John James walked up to him and patted him on the back.

“Everything okay with you, Colonel?”

“As good as it can be, sir. I was just wondering if maybe we shouldn’t reconsider shelling Hot Springs.”

“Charles, you know it’s full of civilians.”

“I do. That thought weighs heavily on me. I’m finding myself in a position where I’m placing a value on human life. On one hand we have civilians, and on the other we have Marines. I look at my civilians and I see a group of men that are making a contribution to the cause …”

Buchanan was speaking of some of the men he had ventured across the US with in the past months. They had fought by his side and proven to be assets.

“But when I think of Hot Springs, I see men and women that are hindering our progress towards a greater objective.”

Buchanan turned and faced John to make his final point.

“This thing is bigger than Hot Springs, sir. It’s bigger than all of us. We can’t spare another Marine. What happened today was nothing short of a catastrophe, and it may have crippled some morale. We have no idea how many more UN troops are coming; they could be limitless. They’re being supplied by the world, sir. The world is sending its troops to destroy us, and we’re worried about a few hundred civies?”

Civies
was a derogatory term used to describe people who were not in the military. Buchanan’s point was received, but John’s answer cemented the plan.

“Then we better save the artillery for a bigger fish, Charles.”

General James walked away, leaving Buchanan alone with his thoughts once again. That was, until his radio called out to him.

“Bravo One from Tango Side, come in. Over.”

Buchanan grabbed the radio mic and held it to his mouth.

“Tango Side, this is Bravo One. Over.”

“Bravo One, we are in position and have recovered friendlies. I repeat, we have recovered friendlies. Over.”

The heat signatures that the Marines had picked up in their FLIRs were of Cox and his men.

“Roger that,” Buchanan said into his mic. “Bring them home. Over.”

Buchanan was excited to hear that Cox had not died, but at the same time, he was still disputing with himself why John wouldn’t just obliterate the UN armies where they were standing and effectuate an end to this chapter of their story. Deep in his own thought process, he was contemplating the possibilities of defying a direct order from John. Given the conditions, he wasn’t sure it would be a wise move to openly defy the general. He was deeply frustrated at his decision, but conceded to the plan.

The District

Executive Commander Abdul Muhaimin began buttoning his white shirt from the top down. He was looking in the mirror and admiring his own complexion. His beard was perfectly trimmed, and he was happy with what he saw. In the bed off to his left was the unwilling concubine he was dining with earlier; her body was lying lifeless. It was too late to be receiving phone calls, even urgent ones, at this time of night, but this was a priority one call direct from the Situation Room. Calls from there meant serious issues needed to be dealt with. After one last look into the mirror to make sure his hair was perfect, he grabbed his cell phone and left.

Moments later Muhaimin was walking into the Situation Room.

“What is it?” he asked the captain that was supervising the evening shift.

“Sir, we have been receiving word from various units across the Midwestern and eastern regions that power is being restored. In addition to this, most of the Human Handling Centers have been attacked by resistance fighters.”