A New World 10 - Storm (11 page)

That went a lot better than I thought. I thought I’d be involved in a "discussion" where I’d have to fake entering into a radio shadow. That, by the way, would not have made things any better.

The rest of the flight is completed rather quickly, as I spend most of it on the radio with Frank and Bannerman. They really don’t have much to report since I talked with them the day before. I ask Bannerman to see that the Spooky is fueled and armed, and to have a team on standby to refuel the 130. We won’t be on the ground for long. The days are getting shorter and I’d like to plan it so we’re back just past sunset. I can’t imagine the marauders will leave whatever spotter they have posted out after dark. I’d like to make our return unknown and enact whatever plan we come up with at first light.

The compound comes into view and I'm relieved to see the familiar, encircling gray walls. We’re home, if only for a short while. Upon landing, we’re greeted by Frank.

“It’s good to see you back,” he says as we shake hands. “I know I wasn’t overly supportive of the plan, but I’m glad it worked out the way it did.”

“Frank, we need people to be the devil’s advocate,” I answer. “As you well know, no plan is perfect, even if it seems that way to everyone. As a matter of fact, it should send up a warning if we are all enthusiastic about it. That means we aren’t looking at it closely enough.”

“Well, if it’s your plan, or semblance of one, I’m sure Lynn will fill that role,” he comments, patting my shoulder and chuckling.

“I can always count on that. She keeps me honest,” I state. “And in line.”

“Speaking of which, just so you know, she isn’t overly happy with you on this newest one,” he says.

“I don’t imagine she is. Wait…she called you?” I ask, a little taken aback.

“Yep. It was right after you radioed. Wanted me to, how did she put it? Oh yeah, look over your shoulder and make sure you aren’t just ‘winging it.’ ‘Make sure he actually comes up with a plan.' I also think 'mule-headed' was mentioned,” Frank answers.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” I state.

We drive back to the inner compound. The parking lot is a frenzy of activity, with semis arriving and departing, escorted by Humvees. Bannerman has been busy with bringing supplies in from up north while we still have the chance. Settling into chairs on the lower floor of the building, Robert, Bri, Gonzalez, and I spread the maps and begin planning. Frank, as advertised, joins us. Not like I would exclude him anyway. I just chuckle inside thinking about the conversation he must have had with Lynn, thankful it was him that had that end of it rather than me.

Throughout the day, we develop a plan, discarding some elements and introducing others. In the end, with the rays of the late afternoon sun streaming through the entrance, we have the makings of a workable solution.

We’ll launch the Spooky before first light and have it at altitude to the south of the bandits. It will watch for any sign of scouts leaving the building and track them, marking their position. At that point, they’ll be our eyes in the sky. They’ll be more than that later, but at that stage, they’ll just monitor the facility.

When we’re assured that the lookouts are in place, I’ll take a caravan with just a few troops from the base. We’ll only use a couple of vehicles as bait to lure the marauders. The other soldiers, split into two groups of twenty-five, will be loaded into fueled vehicles, standing ready to move out. Once the intercepting bandits are some distance from their base, the Spooky will engage the lookouts and take them out, returning to fire on the closing marauders. That will deplete their numbers when we close on the compound itself.

I would go knock on the front door and ask if they’re marauders first, but a group leaving on an intercept course will provide that answer. Once the lookouts are taken care of, the vehicles carrying the soldiers will leave the base. Horace will take one group and head to the southeast, skirting the city and swinging around to come at the building from the east. I will take the remaining soldiers and head southwest, coming in from the west. Red Team will be occupied in the Spooky control center, along with the Blue Team members providing for ammo handlers.

Once we near the building, but are still out of sight, we’ll proceed through the overgrown fields and set up across from the facility. I would just have the Spooky raze the building to the ground, but shit, there’s something in me that wants to give them a chance to change their ways. I won’t risk an extended firefight to do so but, well, it’s just the way I am. Of course, I’m not giving the intercepting or scouting parties a chance at redemption, but I have to even the odds up.

There is further talk of just taking out the lookouts without initiating an intercept. Although I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure that the camp contains the bandits, there is that slim chance we’d be attacking an innocent group that didn’t show up on Nahmer’s list. The vehicles heading out to intercept what they think is a group from the base will raise the surety to a hundred percent. The scouts leaving would also provide that, but not to the level of assurance I’d like. If this is done correctly, we shouldn’t have to exchange a single round or put ourselves at too great a risk.

Gathering our gear, we say our goodbyes once again. Before leaving, I radio Lynn and let her know our plan.

“I’ll just mention my thoughts on this, Jack. Once you’re assured that it’s the marauders, just bring the building down and eliminate them with the gunship. I know about having boots on the ground and all, but you’re not trying to take over the place, you’re just trying to eliminate the threat. I don’t know why you feel you should offer them anything. They certainly didn’t give that opportunity to anyone else,” she states.

I know she’s right but I feel it’s something I have to do anyway. I can’t even explain it myself. Identifying the bandits and unloading hellish fire into their position should be the right choice here. Perhaps it’s time I retire and leave the planning to others. The stress may be getting to me but, for whatever reason, I want to be on the ground and give the folks a chance to come around. I know, deep down, they won’t, but there it is. I want to see these people face to face.

“I know, and that’s the way it may go down. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. I love you,” I reply.

“Safe flight and I’ll see you then. I love you.”

Pulling Gonzalez aside, I ask her what her honest opinion is. “I don’t see where we’re putting ourselves at any tremendous risk with the plan the way it is. Sure, we could just unload shells into the building and call it good. Sometimes, though, you just have to do what you have to do and go with your gut. You know about second-guessing yourself so I won’t go into that. Just know that we’re behind you with whatever you decide, sir,” she responds.

We load up, Gonzalez and I in the Spooky and Robert, Craig, and Bri in the 130. We’ll fly in a trail formation on the way back, hopefully keeping each other in sight for the trip. The sky is clear and the trip is only a little over an hour so we shouldn’t have any problems.

The flight is uneventful as we return to the base, arriving after the sun has lowered beyond the horizon. We come in from the north in order that we don’t overfly or come close to the marauder encampment. The noise of our engines shouldn’t travel that far, and if they pull in their scout, or scouts, during the night, they should have already done so. It’s really the best that we can do, and hopefully, our arrival back at Mountain Home will go undetected.

The landscape below is cast in a silver glow from the moon’s rays as we line up on a long final. I throttle back to gain a little separation, letting Robert land first. We’ll be doing an NVG-only approach so the bright landing lights don’t broadcast our arrival. Our landing will also use up most of the runway, as we don’t want to use our thrust reversers. Robert calls his landing and clears the runway just as my wheels kiss the surface and begin rolling. We taxi in and shut down near the hangar where the soldiers are staying.

I sit in the cockpit, looking over the moonlit ramp. The bright moon outlines everything in silver, highlighting the buildings and vehicles and creating impenetrable shadows. The starkness is both beautiful and eerie, the stillness adding to the latter.

I look for any movement. Jason mentioned that the night runners don’t make their way out to the base anymore, but with my luck, they will be out in force on the very night I want to cross in the open. The noise of our arrival should send any in the area running our way, so I linger for a while. I would stay in the aircraft for the night but we need to brief the others and be ready come morning. Nothing moves in the moonlight. There aren’t any shrieks. It’s completely still and silent.

“Okay, let’s make our way out and over to the hangar, quickly but quietly,” I radio Robert.

He sends a double click of acknowledgement and Horace responds that she’s waiting by a small, steel door inset into the hangar. Gonzalez and I exit and quickly make our way across the tarmac, our shadows chasing after us on the dirt-covered ramp. Robert, Bri, and Craig are ahead, racing for the hangar, the crunch of their boots on the sand making little noise. The entrance opens quickly as they near and they vanish into the darkness beyond with Gonzalez and me following shortly thereafter.

The door closes quickly behind us. The interior is faintly lit from windows posted around the structure, high on the concrete walls. The hangar we’re in hasn’t been converted to a greenhouse, so it has its original roof, for which I’m relieved. Plastic sheeting wouldn’t even slow down a night runner who managed to get on top. Inside, the soldiers, along with Jason, gather in a loose group. It’s hard for the others to see the positions on the map in the dim lighting, but a flashlight with a red lens cover helps. The plan is disseminated, with several verbal walkthroughs, and we retire for the rest of the evening in an attempt to get some rest. My night is a restless one, my mind occupied by the impending operation, but I eventually fall into a semblance of sleep.

I sit up with a start, having had several very strange dreams that begin fading immediately upon waking. Looking at my watch, I note that sunrise is only about two hours away. It’s time to get up and start our day. I hope it goes smoothly and with no loss of life on our side. My joints creak and my back is sore from sleeping on the hard floor. When all of this is said and done, meaning everything, I’m raiding a mattress store and am going to carry around the most comfortable one I can find. I may strap it to my back so all I have to do is fall backward into a deep sleep, dreaming about nothing but floating on clouds. An angel, playing a harp and another handing me drinks, wouldn’t be too bad either. However, that’s not to be at the moment, as my knee cracks loud enough to break a window.

Several soldiers, keeping watch at the doors, turn at my rising. I see they are all armed, something I didn’t notice during the briefing. They didn’t turn on us during the night or try to escape, which is a plus in their favor…and mine. Lumps, which in fact, are sleeping soldiers, are scattered haphazardly across the hangar floor. The smell of unwashed clothing permeates the interior as I make my way through the sleeping mass, waking them to differing reactions. Most rise with the usual grunts and groans, a few startle awake, while others roll over and try to go back to sleep. Robert and Bri fall into the latter category. It’s been that way almost since the day they were born. Oddly, Nic was never that way. The thought of her sends a pang of grief through my heart.

Robert, Bri, Craig, and the two teams ready themselves for their departure. It’s still dark outside, more so since the moon has set. That really doesn’t affect my vision, but the field of view onto the ramp is limited through the small window set in the steel door. I don’t see anything moving. A team of soldiers waits at my shoulder, NVGs in place and ready to provide cover for those who will make a dash to the Spooky. With a nod, I open the door and step aside. They pour out, setting up a small perimeter just beyond the exit. Whispering that all is clear, the Spooky crew dashes across the tarmac and into the aircraft. The security team withdraws and we close up.

Soon after, the whine of the first aircraft engine turning over penetrates the hangar walls. The sound is soon replaced by a deep roar as each engine comes to life, the vibrations felt through the concrete floor. It increases as Craig applies the throttles, fading as they taxi out to the runway. We hear the aircraft begin its takeoff run and the droning slowly fades as they depart into the night sky. Our mission has begun.

We wait in hushed silence as the sunlight slowly grows brighter through the windows, signaling the coming of day. The tension residing within the hangar is palpable as we wait for the sun to peek above the horizon. Craig checked in when they reached their position high to the south of the marauder encampment and I should hear their report soon. It’s light enough outside that we don’t have to worry about lurking night runners so we exit onto the tarmac and ready the vehicles for our excursion. We will be using Jason's fuel reserves; but hopefully, by the end of the day, he won’t have to worry about that for a while…at least until the fuel itself goes bad.

I climb in the passenger seat of one of the pickups with several soldiers piling in the back. They will hide their weapons in the beds. Initially, I thought about only using a couple of vehicles, but I decide to use more. There will be four vehicles pulling out of the gate to give the impression that the people here are desperate and making a run for the farm. The others will load up and be on their way once the lookouts have been disposed of. Then, the remainder of the twenty-five with me will catch up, and Horace will take her team in the other direction.