Operation Damocles (28 page)

XLII

Jack and Eve followed the game trail down the mountain in the dim light, and crossed a shallow valley into the outskirts of town. The only noises were the crunching of the sandy soil beneath their feet, and their breathing. They talked little after starting out; Eve simply following Jack’s lead. The stars were clear, and the air cool and damp.

It was almost a week since his first reconnaissance trip into Mountain View. The previous night he had gone into Palo Alto, and had killed two soldiers who had been escorting three civilians to a detention cell. The three men had turned out to be civilian militia. Their leader, a man named Robertson, had been captured that morning, and they had been trying to organize a rescue when they exited a building into an alley, and ran smack into the two patrolling soldiers.

Townsend went with them to reconnoiter the compound where roughly three dozen prisoners were being held. Chain-link fence and barbed wired cordoned off an area about an acre in size. Sentries walked the perimeter fence. Tents and vehicles bordered the compound for about a third of its circumference. On the side opposite the tents, portable toilets were lined up inside the fence. The compound was open, and prisoners sat on the ground, singly and in small groups. Troops were housed in an apartment complex two hundred yards away, and sentries walked the adjacent street.

Townsend suggested a plan. He would provide a diversion that would pull most of the troops away from the area. Fifteen militia members would surround the compound at 3:00 a.m. the following morning, each with a designated target. After Townsend drew the troops away, on signal they would kill the sentries and release the prisoners. The prisoners would be directed to scatter in all directions, bettering everyone’s chances of escape.

Eve had refused to let him go alone. She had turned a corner emotionally, one that even Jack hadn’t anticipated. She had retribution on her mind, and wasn’t going to be denied.

She had grown up on an Indiana farm, and had some experience with guns. Jack had taught her to field-strip and reassemble the M-16, and to operate its firing mechanism. She knew how to use it.

He had stretched a wire across the mouth of one of the other concrete pipes, and hung a blanket over the opening to muffle the noise. They test-fired the guns he had collected in there, shooting into a cardboard box he had filled with dirt and sand. He drew a bull’s-eye on the side of the box with a marker pen. Once she became used to the gun and got the sights adjusted to suit her, she did well enough, managing to group her shots within a three-inch circle at a distance of fifty feet.

The body armor was adjustable and lightweight. Eve had gagged and turned green when, as she was trying on the body armor and uniform shirt the day before, she had noticed the crusty, brown blood on the shoulder straps of the armor and the collar of the G.I. shirt, and realized what Jack had done to get them. She had soaked them and scrubbed them clean before completing her adjustments.

Eve’s uniform was too big and Jack’s too small, but they were not uncomfortable. They both had black hiking boots that Jack had bought several weeks before, so footwear was not a problem. The trousers were worn bloused, so it didn’t matter if they were a bit too short, and he had cut the sleeves off the cami-shirts and rolled them up to their biceps, in the fashion that many soldiers wore them. All things considered, he felt that they would pass all but a close inspection, especially at night.

They approached town through a residential district and walked in brazenly, their rifles held ready. Jack thought that their most immediate danger was that some patriotic citizen might mistake them for the enemy, and take a shot at them from one of the nearby houses.

They made it into the center of town without incident. As they got within two blocks of Main Street, they began to see pairs of roving soldiers, as well as isolated guards posted on alternate street corners. They weren’t challenged. Jack thought that it might be due to the international mix of troops. They couldn’t know each other very well yet, if at all. The sentries were far enough apart that he knew he could kill one or two of them and still get away with Eve, if he had to. If someone stopped them, he would not wait to argue, he would kill every enemy in sight.

They made their way to the alley behind a three-story building, just a block from Main Street, and climbed to the flat roof via an iron fire escape. Once on top, they could see quite a bit of the activity. It was after 11:00 p.m., and there was no civilian traffic. Jack assumed that the occupation forces had established a curfew. Across town. Jack found what he was looking for. There was a brightly lit area, and as they watched, a helicopter landed there. Jack had reasoned that the military would establish a staging and supply area near one of the bay bridges for convenience, and assumed that either Palo Alto or Menlo Park would be selected. The troops in Mountain View and other outlying towns would be rotated and provisioned from there.

They climbed back down to the street and proceeded in the direction of the lights. Now the sky glare was evident, and the noise of men and equipment increased as they approached. They crossed a street and climbed over a low cinder-block fence into a wide, parklike embankment with trees and grass. They walked up the embankment and climbed a small, steep slope at the farther side. At the top, they immediately crouched down in the darkness near a palm tree.

They were on the verge of a well-lit parking area and playing field. Guards were everywhere, and troops were busy unloading two six-by-six trucks and a cargo trailer. Near at hand were fenced tennis courts, and just the other side of the trucks and parking area was a manicured track for field sports.

“It’s a school,” Eve said.

“Makes sense,” said Jack. “Administrative offices, ready telephone and computer connections, a cafeteria, and classrooms that can be converted to barracks by just shoving the desks out of the way and installing field cots or bedrolls. C’mon, let’s see if we can find where they’re putting their supplies. We especially want to find their ammunition and ordnance stores.”

“Where would they keep them?” Eve asked.

“Someplace protected, and easy to get to—a concrete building away from wherever the troops bed down, I would guess. Certainly nowhere near the administrative offices.”

“See the guys unloading that truck on the other side of the playing field?” Eve said. “They’re carrying heavy boxes into that big building with the round roof, two men to a box. I think that building is a gymnasium or indoor stadium. Could that be where the ammunition is?”

“We’ll know in a minute,” he said, unslinging a small pair of binoculars. He watched the men as they struggled to carry in ammo cans and heavy wooden crates with ropes on the ends.

“You’re absolutely right. That is munitions. Some of it is mortar shells—probably tear gas and fragmentation for riot suppression, and maybe star shells for flares at night. Lots of small-arms ammo. I’d like to get a big can of .223 ammo, but it will be a pain to carry it all the way back to where we parked the Cherokee.

“Of course, we might find a vehicle we can use, too, but it will be risky. When that stuff goes up, we need to be back on the other side of town, or better yet, back in camp.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’ll find somewhere to wait. After about one o’clock, everyone but a few sentries will be in the sack. Then we’ll work our way into that gym. I’ll have to see what kind of stuff is available. I would like to be able to rig a time delay of some sort, so we can get a little distance away before it goes up.”

“Think the building could have an alarm?” Eve said, thinking out loud.

“It probably does, but I’m not so sure they would use it. They have sentries, and they think they are pretty secure. Those helicopter gunships ate this place up last week. There isn’t going to be much fight left in these people.”

“I just had a horrible thought, Jack. What if we do this and they retaliate by killing some of the townspeople? They might, don’t you think?”

“Yes. It has occurred to me too, honey, but if we don’t do anything, and Hector and friends fail, it’s all over for everybody, from now on. We have to fight back. Obedience is not going to stop these bastards from killing people anyway, at least not in the long run. They are vastly outnumbered by the population. The only weapon they have that can prevent the citizenry from overthrowing them is fear. That’s what domination of this sort depends on. They shoot a lot of people at first, really rub their noses in the dirt, then they don’t have to deal with much resistance in the future. Everyone is too scared to fight back.”

“If we blow up that ammunition, will it make any difference?”

“Not much. They’ll resupply from Alameda Naval Air Station or one of the other bases. They’re distributing just enough so that the occupation forces have a ready supply on hand, to deal with any contingencies.”

“Then why are we doing it?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

“To create a diversion while the local underground rescues their leader. Robertson is a capable leader—a good organizer and strategist. The underground needs that kind of person. The reason I gave in to you and brought you along, is that I thought you wanted revenge for Nathaniel, and I thought a certain measure of it might be good for your peace of mind,” Jack replied. He studied her face, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“I do,” she said, “but I really want to hurt them. If we should get caught and die for nothing, the bastards will have won again.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “And if they retaliate by killing innocent people, I want them to pay dearly for every life. This is not a joke to me, Jack.”

“I know it’s not,” he said, wiping her tears away. “When that thing in orbit cuts loose, they will pay. If it should fail, then I figured you needed this basic training for what lies ahead. Years of war. Hit-and-run fighting. That’s all that’s left. There won’t be anywhere in the world to go. It’s the best I can do to assure your survival.”

She dug her face into his neck, her arm around his shoulder, snuffling quietly. He held her until she felt better.

“The future is not that dismal, yet,” he said when she pulled back, drying her eyes. “Let’s build a surprise for these boys, then go home. Okay?” He slapped her bottom gently.

She smiled, “Okay,” she said.

They skirted the parking lot, and approached the gymnasium through a service driveway that led between the gym and an adjacent utility building. As they crept up to the corner of the building, they heard voices. They flattened themselves against the wall of the utility building, and Jack peered cautiously around the corner. Two soldiers were slouching against the wall of the gym, smoking. One had his rifle in his hand, butt resting on the ground. The other’s was slung over his shoulder.

Jack turned to Eve and whispered in her ear, “Two sentries. I’ll take care of them. After I do, I’ll come back. Be quiet and stay down.”

She responded with a nod, looking anxiously at him. He kissed her on the nose, and slinging his M-16 over his left shoulder, walked brazenly around the corner. The men were not more than fifteen feet away. The one with the slung rifle straightened up as Jack walked up, a questioning look on his face. The other was facing away from Jack, toward the other man, and had just started to turn when Jack put the silenced Walther within an inch of his head and fired. His pace never slackened, and his next step took him inches from the other soldier. Jack put the gun under his chin and fired. Neither man had time enough to realize what was happening before both were on the ground, dead, their lifeless limbs jerking and twitching as their last, scrambled nerve impulses caused rapidly weakening convulsions. In seconds, they were still. Jack never paused to check them. He knew with the sureness of long experience exactly what he had done.

He turned back to the corner of the building and retrieved Eve. He led her to the doorway of the small utility building and tried the door. It opened. Inside was a large gas-fired boiler. Jack assumed that it provided heat and hot water for the gymnasium. The building also housed items of grounds-care equipment in the form of two riding mowers, and various wall-hung implements and garden hoses.

“Honey, I want you to crouch down in this doorway and keep watch on these two sides of the building. Someone may show up to check on the sentries. If someone does, shoot him before he has a chance to find those bodies and raise the alarm. A random shot is probably not that uncommon, and isn’t likely to rouse as much attention as someone yelling for help. If nothing interferes, I’ll be gone for about thirty minutes. If I hear you shoot, I’ll come running out that door over there. Don’t shoot me by mistake, okay?”

“I wouldn’t think of it. I’ll be okay. Go!”

He went, slipping out the door of the utility building, and into the back entrance of the gym. Eve heaved a restless sigh, her tension easing somewhat, and kneeled down in the shadowed doorway, sitting back on her heels, her rifle across her thighs. It was very dark now, the shadows of the buildings like inky wells of blackness.

Jack walked down a dark hallway for about thirty feet. Doors opened off the hall into two offices, men’s and women’s restrooms, an equipment room and a janitor’s closet. He checked these as he went.

At the end of the hallway, he looked out cautiously into a big, open gymnasium with a hardwood floor and basketball hoops at either end. Polished wooden bleachers ran the length of the building on both sides. About half the length of the floor had been divided into square sections with cleared lanes crisscrossing between them. The square sections were comprised of pallets of ammunition, rations, sleeping bags and weapons.

An M-60 machine gun and two mortars sat among other stuff in the square nearest him. These drew him, and after a brief search he found mortar shells and several cans of 7.62-millimeter NATO ammunition for the M-60. It took a bit longer, and a search through three other blocks of supplies, before he found the hand grenades and boxed, two-pound bricks of C-4 plastic explosive.