Firebase Freedom (24 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: Firebase Freedom
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“What? Where?” Sam said, speaking louder than he intended.
“Shh!” Ben warned, and both looked around to see if any of the guards heard him.
It appeared that the guards had not heard.
“Where are our wives?” Sam asked again, this time speaking as quietly as Ben had.
“They are in Sanderson.”
“Sanderson? I know Sanderson, it's twenty miles west of here.”
“How do you know Sanderson?”
“I was in the trucking business, remember? On 90, we came through Dryden and Sanderson between Del Rio and Alpine. Sanderson and Dryden are the only two towns in Terrell county. What are the women doing there? Are they working in the fields?”
“No, they're making uniforms for the SPS.”
“Where is the camp?”
“It's at the end of Carlisle Road. Do you know where that is?”
“I know exactly where it is. And it makes sense to put the camp there, because it would be out of the way from the rest of the town. But there are good people who live in Sanderson. I can't see them going along with having a concentration camp there.”
“There's nobody left in Sanderson now but the Janissaries and plant managers, and the women they have working there. They've moved all the natives out of town, just like they have here, in Dryden.”
“Thanks, Ben,” Sam said.
That night, for the first time since Sam and Sarah had been separated, Sam felt a sense of calmness. He wasn't lost anymore. He knew where he was, and he knew where Sarah was.
And he began working on a plan.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-SIX
Mobile
 
There was a limited amount of jet fuel at the Mobile airport, but none left at what had been, at one time, the Mobile Coast Guard base. Jake and Bob flew the Huey from Fort Morgan to the Mobile airport, where they took on enough fuel to bring the fuel on board to 240 gallons. That was the first time the helicopter had been topped off in well over a year.
With the helicopter at full fuel load, Jake and Bob decided to make a scouting flight around their newly acquired territory. Jake was in the right seat, the command seat on the Huey, and Bob was in the left. As they flew, Bob was doing a search of all the radio frequencies. Most of the frequencies were quiet, then he picked up a broadcast that came in quite clear.
“When we get to Mobile, what's our target?”
“The National Leader has declared Mobile a free fire zone.”
“So, we just set up the pieces and start firing?”
“Yes. Remember, our only mission at this point is to spread around a little terror.”
“Ha! I'm gonna enjoy this.”
“Put that on the ADF,” Jake said, and Bob tuned in the automatic direction finder. The needle swung to the azimuth from which the radio signals were coming, and Jake turned to fly in that direction. They flew for another half hour, then, near the town of Greenville, Bob saw them.
“Down there,” Bob said. “I see ten trucks headed south. Four of them are pulling artillery pieces . . . looks like 105s.”
“Yeah, I see 'em, M777A1 Howitzers,” Jake said. “What do you say we go back and set up a little surprise for them?”
They started back to Fort Morgan at VNE speed, and Jake called Willie on the way.
“Willie, put Deon on.”
“Roger,” Willie said.
A moment later, Deon's voice came up. “Six, this is Three, over.”
“Three, get an assault team ready. And we'll need some heavy armament. This is for an immediate operation.”
“Will do, Six.”
When Jake landed at Fort Morgan twenty minutes later, Tom Jack, Deon Pratt, Marcus Warner, Willie Stark, Mike Moran, and Jerry Cornett were waiting for them. All were armed with M-240 machine guns, and in addition the attack team was equipped with two FGM-148 Javelin antivehicle missile launchers.
Jake landed, then shut the engine down just long enough to brief them.
“There are ten trucks,” Jake said. “Now, let's say that each truck is eighteen feet long. Four are pulling M triple seven Howitzers that are thirty-five feet long. Allow a hundred feet between each vehicle, that means the column will be right at four hundred yards long, depending on the distance between. So the first thing we'll do when we get there, is set up two roadblocks, four hundred yards apart. That will give us a contained kill zone. Do we have any C-4 left?”
“Yeah, we got a lot of it from the SPS armory in Mobile,” Tom said.
“Good, we'll use it.”
“Damn,” Deon said.
“What?”
“This is the American army we are about to attack. These are guys I served with, and fought with. I never imagined myself setting up an ambush. Hell, that's what we had to deal with in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
“First of all, Deon, I would be willing to bet that you never served with a single one of these men,” Tom said. “The army, like the navy, was totally destroyed by Ohmshidi. There is no army anymore. These are SPS goons.”
“Yeah, you're probably right.”
“Let's get mounted,” he said.
“Damn!” Bob said with a broad grin.
“What is it?”
“This will be the first combat insertion I've done since Vietnam.”
“Yeah?” Jake pulled the starter trigger and the blades started to turn. “Well, if you've done one insertion, you've done them all.” Using the beeper switch, he beeped the RPM up into the green, then lifted off.
Bob knew the area better than Jake, and he recommended that they set down at an abandoned service station at exit 34. Jake landed just east of the abandoned building so the helicopter could not be seen from the road. Then, he deployed the team.
“Not you, Bob,” he said.
“What do you mean, not me? Are you an age bigot?”
Jake chuckled. “You're our reserve. If I get hit, you'll have to fly us back.”
“Yeah, all right, I can see that. But don't get hit.”
 
 
They found a Chrysler that, though it could no longer be driven, could be pushed, and they filled it with C-4 plastic explosive. They pushed it out onto the road, then moved back four hundred yards behind where they found a Chevrolet, and filled it with C-4.
“I love it,” Tom said. “These cars are from the auto companies that Ohmshidi stole from the stockholders.”
The C-4 in both cars were set to be exploded by two-way radio, broadcasting on a certain frequency. He left Willie and Marcus on the Chevy.
“There are ten trucks,” Jake said. “Count them, when the tenth one goes by, push this car on the road, then back out of the way.”
“Right,” Marcus said.
Jake spread the rest of them out along the side of the road, then waited. There was very little traffic on what had once been a very heavily traveled artery that stretched from Mobile all the up to Chicago.
A 2010 Ford came by.
It was ten minutes before another vehicle passed them, this one a 2003 Dodge. Both cars merely steered around the Chrysler, which looked no different from all the other abandoned cars along the interstate. It wasn't even the only car in the middle of the highway
“Major!” Deon called from the top of a berm that ran parallel to the highway. Deon was looking north with a pair of field glasses. “They're comin'!”
“How far?”
“No more'n a mile, I'd say.”
Tom keyed the mic on his two-way radio. “Willie?”
“I'm here.”
“Did you read that?”
“Roger.”
“All right, stand by.”
Deon came back down from the berm then, and Jake took his radio. He changed it to the detonation frequency, then put it down so that he wouldn't inadvertently key the switch and activate the trigger signal that would set off the explosives.
“Here they are,” Deon said.
“Stay down.”
The men stayed out of sight behind the berm.
Jake watched as the first truck came by, the back of the truck filled with uniformed SPS men. Then he keyed the mic on the radio, and was rewarded with a stomach-shaking explosion as the Chrysler went up in a huge, rolling ball of flame.
“Go!” Willie said, over the radio, indicating that the Chevy was in position and that he and Marcus were clear.
As the vehicles came to a stop, Tom triggered the explosion in the Chevy, trapping the convoy between the two burning cars.
“All right, take out the heavy guns!” Tom ordered, and almost immediately two missiles were launched, and two of the guns were destroyed. At the same time the other members of the attack team opened fire on the SPS personnel using M-240 machine guns.
There was very little resistance from the SPS troops, and those who weren't killed in the initial attack ran, most of them abandoning their weapons. It was all over within five minutes. Tom, Deon, and the others of the attack team came out from behind the berm and completed their work by tossing thermite grenades into each of the trucks. They also took care of the remaining Howitzers by damaging the breeches so that they couldn't be fired.
“Gather up the weapons,” Tom said. “We can use every piece of armament we can find.”
Fifteen minutes later, with at least two dozen undamaged M-4 rifles, along with several containers of ammunition, the attack detail regathered at the helicopter.
“Whoa! We can kick some major ass now!” Deon said as, laughing, he and the others climbed back into the helicopter for the flight back.
They landed at the Mobile airport to take on more fuel, and were met there by several of the town's citizens who had heard the news that there had been troops coming down to reclaim Mobile.
“President Varney, we want you to come on TV tonight and give a report to the city,” Barney Caldwell said. Caldwell had been the mayor of Mobile, before the SPS took over and appointed their own mayor. That appointed mayor left town shortly after Mobile was retaken, and Caldwell moved back into the job.
“All right,” Bob said. “I'll be glad to.”
Caldwell looked at the other men who had taken part in the interdiction operation.
“And, I think it would be great if you would all just drive down Government Street and let our citizens see you, and cheer you,” Caldwell said.
Caldwell had made several convertibles available to Bob and the others, and as they drove on into town, both sides of Government Street were lined by cheering citizens. That night Bob Varney went on the one remaining television station to address the citizens of Mobile. Sitting behind the news desk, he couldn't help but think of the last time he was in this studio. Then, it had been to promote his novel about the 8th Air Force during World War II.
The book had sold very well, and as he recalled that interview, he remembered thinking how good life was then, how he and his wife had realized their dream of buying a beach house, and how his publisher wanted as many books as he could write.
Now, all that was gone, and he was navigating his way through a world that was still very alien to him.
“President Varney, you'll be on in ten seconds,” the floor director said. “You'll hear the voice-over introduce you.”
Bob nodded, then watched the floor director hold up a clenched fist. He counted off the last five seconds by lifting one finger at a time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, President Bob Varney,” the voice-over said.
A red light on the camera came on.
“Good evening,” Bob said. “Over the last three and a half years, beginning with the election of Mehdi Ohmshidi, our lives have undergone some major, and, most I am sure will agree, unpleasant changes. It began innocently enough with a presidential election. We have had many presidents in our history, some better than others, but always there was the power of the ballot box so that we could, every four years, vote to sustain or to replace the person we had chosen to lead us. And, we even had the power of impeachment, so that if the sins of our elected officials were too severe, we could remove them from office, short of re-election.
“It was not until this last election that we, by our own hand, cast the ballot that destroyed our republic. For with that ballot we elected Mehdi Ohmshidi. Now, Ohmshidi has declared himself president for life, and our precious heritage has been taken from us.”
Bob let that comment sink in for a moment, then he smiled at the camera.
“But we Americans are a resilient people, and, town by town, county by county, state by state, we will
take back America
!”
Although Bob was not speaking before an audience, several who were in the TV studio cheered, and their reaction could be heard over the air.
“Today the illegitimate government of an illegitimate entity, the so-called American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment, sent a reconnaissance team in force to our city, intending to bombard us with artillery fire. At this point it isn't clear whether they thought that, by intimidation, they could take the city back, or whether they had no idea of recovery at all—but only the intent to kill as many of us as they could.
“I am happy to say that we successfully intercepted their attack and totally destroyed their force. But, you may rest assured that any future force that Ohmshidi may direct toward us will be much larger, and much more lethal, so we must be ready for it.
“Therefore I am asking, tonight, that anyone within the reach of this broadcast who has any military experience, report to the Hank Aaron baseball field tomorrow at thirteen hundred hours.” Bob smiled at the camera. “If you have military experience, I won't have to tell you what time thirteen hundred is.
“Now, I address this to those of you who converted to
Moqaddas Sirata.
If your conversion was genuine, and you wish to continue to practice that perversion of Islam, you are free to do so . . . but . . . you are not free to condemn, or to interfere with, any other citizen in the practice of their religion.
“And finally, I tell you this. We are in a state of war with the American Islamic Republic of Enlightenment. Anyone who gives aid and comfort to the enemy shall be treated as a traitor, and will be dealt with. If you think you cannot live under these principles, leave now! We will make no effort to stop anyone from leaving. But if you leave, we will not let you return.

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