Pedestals of Ash (3 page)

Colonel Marcus looked up from the map spread on the roof of his command
Humvee
and sighed. His 4
th
Brigade Combat Team of the 10
th
Mountain D
ivision was taking up defensive positions outside of Shreveport, Louisiana
,
and
he
wasn’t
happy with the situation
at all.

Colonel Marcus was standing in the doorframe of the
Humvee
,
trying to gain just a little more visibility from the extra height. It wasn’t helping much. To add to the frustration, he didn’t have a proper military map. One of his staff sergeants had pulled this one from the
glove
box of his civilian car
as they were
rushing out of Fort Polk. The a
rmy didn’t issue proper milit
ary grade maps of North America
to its corps.

Shreveport was the hub of the wheel for several nuclear power plants residing along the Mississippi delta
,
and it was the 4/10’s objective to gain control of the region for the Independents.
The decision to pledge his command to the new group had been difficult enough. Now their first mi
ssion was causing him to second-
guess that commitment.

During
the first few months after everything had fallen apart, his brigade had been ordered to perform unthinkable acts by the regular chain of command. While there is no action more demoralizing for a military unit tha
n to enforce martial law on the
native populace, this situation had been even worse. Not only was the 4/10 ordered to
enforce rule of law, they metamorph
os
ed into
the health care
provider
, fire
department,
police
,
and food distribution center for the
distressed population. 

One night Marcus had been visited by a former commanding general whom he respect
ed. The sales pitch explaining t
he Independents
’ purpose
had been executed
flawlessly. After sleeping on it, Marcus decided he was in. The President of the United States was
“
off the reservation
,
”
and t
he Independents pl
edged to restore rule, governing
based on the Constitution of the United States. That founding document was what Colonel Marcus and every
other U.S. officer swore
an oath to protect. 

Marcus looked over his shoulder at Sergeant
Major
Mitchel and shook his head in disgust. “Mitch, this isn’t good. I don’t know how far back to place our reserve. Is there
any
topography data available?”

Sergeant
Major
Mitchel shook his head, “I’ve sent a couple of men into Shreveport to check at the local library, sir. The town’s been badly looted, but they’re trying to find something –
truthfully,
I wouldn’t count on it
,
C
olonel
.”

Colonel Marcus looked back at his map and tried to reach a decision. The 4
th
was spread across a five
-
kilometer front
,
halfway between the c
ity of Shreveport and the Texas-
Lou
isiana state line. The northern-
most units could see the shores of Lake Cross from their
vantage
. The brigade had taken defensive positions that spanned Interstate 20 and continued
south for another kilometer
. The 4/10 was a “light” unit, which meant that their main firepower consisted of thinly armored
Stryker fighting vehicles.
A “heavy” unit w
ould rely on tanks. The Stryker
s were one of the latest additions to the U.S.
arsenal and had exceeded
expectations in Iraq. Faster and quieter than both M1 Abrams main batt
le tanks and the older Bradley fighting v
ehicles, the Stryker was an
eight-wheeled
troop carrier with some very advanced capabilities.

The 4/10 had caught
some
good luck however. When everything
had gone to hell,
two platoons of
the
Louisiana National Guard
were engaged in exercises
at Fort Polk
,
training with their eight M1A
1
tanks. This augmentation was the brigade’s ace in the hole
,
and right now Marcus was trying to figure out where to position this additional combat power.

The Independents had informed him that the 4/10 was about to receive visitors. Just as had occurred thousands of times throughout history, two significant military forces both wanted the same strategic ground at the same time. A collision was inevitable. The Ironhorse brigade of the 1
st
Calvary D
ivision was known to be moving east from Dallas and headed right at him.
A heavy unit
,
thick with tanks, t
he Ironhors
e was loyal to the p
resident
. Worse yet, Colonel Marcus knew they were highly trained, well led
,
and very c
apable. An experienced military man, he recognized
that leadership and motivation were often as important a
s equipment
, and the unit heading toward him had plenty of both
. If this
confrontation turned into a
fight, he was outgu
nned. While his wheeled Stryker
s were faster, the M1 tanks used by the Ironhorse were about as close to unstoppable as any machine on the modern battlefield.
They didn’t call the M1 tanks “w
hispering
d
eath” for nothing.

Were it not for the addition of the tank platoons to his order of battle, Colonel Marcus would never consider a fixed line of defense. He would be relegated to a fighting retreat and hope to wear his opponent down. He knew that pure firepower seldom won battles. Maneuver was the key to victory – at least that’s what every officer who was outgunned told himself. It would be shortsighted to even consider that his opposing commander didn’t know this
,
and besides, those tanks could move almost as fast as his equipment.

There were a host of other issues plaguing him as well. Both sides were equipped with the latest electronic networking systems. A commander si
t
ting inside of a Stryker could see both friend and foe on a computer screen
,
and this functionality
provided the American Army a huge advantage in recent
Middle Eastern conflicts
. Marcus’s
problem was that both sides owned the same technology. To make
things worse, no one could be sure that the Ironhorse’s computer screens wouldn’t show the 4/10’s data. The decision had been made to disable the systems. The colonel hoped the
Cav
would reach the same conclusion.

Air support was another big concern. American doctrine dictated that U.S. troops did not take the
field unless air superiority
was
clearly established. If
the United States Air Force were
supporting the p
resident, the 4/10 was in t
rouble. Because of that mandate
,
his brigade
had practically zero anti-air defensive capability. While he had been assured that the USAF was sitting this one out, a good officer never took these things for granted. If
fighter-bombers attacked
his ground forces, the 4/10 wouldn’t last
long. Worse yet, if the
Cav
brought out
Longbow Apache attack helicopters, his brigade probably wouldn’t even get off a single shot at the approaching force. Normally, he would be counting on his own air capabilities, but their fuel supply had been exhausted while the brigade was occupying Baton Rouge.
The Independents
promised him a re-supply, but so
far,
none had arrived. His platoon of flying tank killers was grounded.

While most of th
e 4/10’s commanders were battle-
proven and well trained, their CO still had concerns. Over the last
10
years, all U.S. ground commanders had come to depend heavily on either fix
ed
-wing or rotary air support. In the last two wars, his forces had had the capability to stand back and call in either artillery or air support against a well
-defended position. If there were
going to be a fight tod
ay, it would be a fluidic, fast-
moving war of maneuver. His troopers were experienced, but with a different type of action. Not since the first Gulf War had the American military fought a force on force b
attle, and that had been so one-
sided it had only lasted a few hours. While
most of
their equipment and tactics had been originally designed to fight the hordes
of
Warsaw Pact divisions crossing into West Germany, they had never actually been used against anythin
g close to a technological
equal
.

Other than the artillery, Marcus figured this to be a confrontation between mobile ground-based forces. While the 4/10 had a platoon of
Paladin
self-propelled ar
tillery, the Ironhorse had its
ow
n field guns. With modern radar-
equipped
counterbattery capabilities, the two artillery units would be playing shoot and scoot - a deadly game of chess that would most
likely cancel each other out
.

A military strategist
,
the colonel easily recognized the dilemma. A
n artillery shell flies through the air for several seconds before impact.
Since b
oth sides possessed radar units that
could detect the incoming round
and
backtrack to the parent gun
, i
t wasn’t unusual for return fire to be on the way before the initial salvo landed
.
An artillery unit’s life must be
one of constant movement because remaining stationary meant death.
I can’t count on artillery support because they will be playing c
at-and-mouse with the Cav’s long-range
guns,
concluded the colonel.

Marcus scanned the horizon one last
time and made his decision. He
hop
p
ed down from his perch
on the Humvee
, pulling the map with him
. As with all good sergeants, Mitchel read his commander perfectly and stepped forward ready to receive orders. Marcus pointed to the map and said, “
Position the reserves
here
,
and tell those Cajun tank jockeys they had better fight those damn machines well
,
if they want to see the sun set tonight.”   

Smokey glanced at the hundred or so men gathered on the front steps of the Alpha courthouse. They were a ragtag group at best, more closely resembling a mob than an organized fighting force. About a quarter of the group cons
isted of former prisoners
Hawk
and he
freed from the local jail. The rest were mostly
starving
college students and
others who long ago developed an insatiable taste for drugs and booze.
Like mercenaries whose allegiance always fell to the highest bidder,
many of Smokey’s soldiers fought for
the contraband that he could provide.

The smell of body odor, gun oil
,
and fear filled Smokey’s nostrils. While they had enough food, water
supply was always an issue
for his people. Bathing was a luxury available to only a few. He ruled the vast majority of Alpha
,
Texas with the exception of one small corner of the town. That area was the source of the city’s water supply, and it was controlled by Deacon Brown and her congregation at th
e First Bible Church. Smokey’s crew made several attempts
to push the holy
rollers off of that small corner of Alpha
, but the congregation unified, held its position,
and eventually fortified the perimeter.

For months, the two groups
patrolled, s
c
av
enged and skirmished all over Alpha. Smok
ey
lost over 80 men to the B
ible th
umpers in various ambushes, gunfights
,
and snip
ing e
ncounters. Hawk had been his mole
inside the church
,
feeding him critical information. Smokey believed
the zealots
were losing heart,
setting the stage for h
is men to
overwhelm the resistance
and seize control
of
the water supply. This Bishop character ha
d ruined all of his water regulating efforts and more.
Not only had Bishop discovered Hawk was
a spy, he had “eliminated” several of Smokey’s vigilantes, reigniting hope in Deacon Brown’s parishioners
. Smokey was wise enough to know moral
e
could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Even beyond that, there was the issue of the water.

The Old W
est had a long and bloody history of fighting over water, or least using the life sustaining liquid as the excuse
for a brawl here and there
. The Pleasant Valley War, Mason Country War
,
and the more commonly known Lincoln Country War had all involved water rights to varying degrees, or at least that’s what most people thought. In reality, water had very little to do with those historic skirmishes. While the standoff in Alpha did involve water, and Smokey’s people truly needed it, there were far more important motivations for this
clash
.

Deacon Brown’s presence denied Smokey absolute power, foiling his
every attempt to consolidate his rule of Alpha. Smokey wanted the desirable woman in one of his jail cells, an
d after having his fun, he planned to
crucify her on a cross in the town square. She provided an alternative to his rule
,
and many had joined her flock. It seemed like every time Smokey tried to establish some service in Alpha, the people who knew how to make things work had already joined this woman and her church.

The latest source
of this frustration was
an oversized
fuel storage tank, owned by the school district and used to feed the large fleet of yellow buses. Smokey needed that gasoline, but didn’t have anyone who could figure out how to pump the liquid gold out of the tank. One man finally volunteered to show them where the school’s maintenance man li
ved. A visit to the address revea
led the fellow had
abandoned his home and
taken his family to the church
compound
.
And that was just one example of how Deacon Brown’s influence had thwarted Smokey’s plans.
Practically every step to restor
e some level of civilization
resulted in a dead end, mostly due to a lack of knowledge
within Smokey’s ranks
. Engineers, electricians
,
and even construction work
ers had
been killed, slipped out of
town
,
or
j
oined the church. Time after
time,
Smokey’s followers
automatically blamed
Deacon Brown’s little ba
nd of holdouts
for every failure or shortcoming – whether they deserved it or not.

In reality, there were three groups of people remaining in Alpha. In addition to Smokey’s army of cri
minals and Deacon Brown’s congregation, there
were
hundreds of what Smokey’s men referred to as
“the rats.” These were college students and citizens of Alpha who were still trying to survive on their own and not align
ed with either side. Smokey realized
that as time went on,
these people would have to associate with
one side
or the other. If the church were eliminated as an option, his way
would be the only choice.

Smokey’s army was divided into two groups. For the past hour
,
his lieuten
ants had been gathering the troops
and laying out the simple plan he had communicated
in the c
hief’s office a short time ago. The first group
of about 40 men would function as a decoy, acting as if
they were the main assault against the church’s
fortified perimeter.
The second group would envelop
,
and 10
minutes after the shooting started, hit the church from the west side where Hawk reported the defenses were the weakest. Smokey remembered reading a quote by the American General George Patton, “Hold them by the nose
,
and kick them in the ass.” He planned on doin
g just as the famous general
advised.

Smokey thought about giving a pre-combat speech to the gathered men, but decided against it. The groups scattered around him were not
real
soldiers
,
and he didn’t like speaking in public anyway. He held up the AK47 rifle, taken from the police station armory, and simply yelled out, “Let’s go kick some ass!”

The small town of Alpha
,
Texas had never witnessed a full-on battle. Populated after the Indian Wars in this
part of the world had long
been over, the presence of dozens of armed men moving through the deserted streets was something new. The two columns of fighters moved slowly down the sidewalks and unused avenues that were already sprouting weeds here and there. The men avoided large piles of glass from brok
en storefronts and maneuvered around
the rusted, burned out automobiles that littered the streets. 

It was only 15
city blocks from the courthouse to the perimeter of the church. As the diversion group approached its jump off point, the leader motioned for the men to spread out and stay behind cover where possible.

Deacon Brown was in her office when the lookout’s whistle blew. She scampered down the stairs
,
grabbing her rifle on the way. She sensed
,
more than saw
,
Atlas behind her. Her adopted son was a giant of a man
,
and it always boosted
her confidence knowing he was with her. As she descended the stairs, she found the main sanctuary was already bustling wi
th activity. Men who were not already engaged in
sentry duty were scrambling to find weapons, ammunition and kiss family members goodbye. The women who were not assigned to help the fighters herded the children and elderly toward the basement steps. While a stranger might have viewed the scene as absolute chaos, everyone’s actions were actually well rehearsed after weeks of what amounted to open warfare.

The First Bible Church’s extensive parking lot was ringed with a barrier of automobiles, church buses
,
and anything else the congregation could throw together to defend the property. All along the makeshift wall, men were running with weapons and bags of ammo. Deacon Brown rushed to the roof of the church’s
two-story
annex building attached to the main sanctuary. A few dozen plastic trash bags had been filled with sand, dirt
,
and gravel in order to create a command post overlooking most of the defensive positions. Atlas, as usual, stayed beside his mother. In addition to the church’s leader and her son, two of the best marksmen in the group took up positions with deer rifles. As suddenly as the mad scramble to man the wall had begun, it was over. All along the line, men with rifles at their shoulders took deep breaths and scanned the area in front of them
,
wondering if today would be thei
r last. An eerie calm fell over the resistance
as they waited for the attack. They wouldn’t have to wait long.

As Smokey’s diversionary group spread out along a
one-block
area
,
the men naturally started running from position
to position
,
bent at the waist.
Most of them had heard the alarm whistle coming from the defenders to their front and understood there would be no surprise today. As soon as the attackers settled into positions, the leader looked at his watch and nodded. The three men with him all raised their rifles and began sending rounds into the church’s defensive positions
,
signaling the beginning of the attack. A few moments later, dozens of other rifles joined in and began pelting the church’s wall with lead.

All along the northern border of the church
grounds, bullets slammed
into the makeshift barrier. Sparks flew
,
and metal thumped with the impact. The men assigned to defend this section had seen it all before. They stayed low behind proven bullet stops, only occasional
ly peering over and around
cover.

Many of the attackers were equipped with
bolt-action
rifles
,
and their rate of fire was limited. Every sporting goods store, private home
,
and
pawnshop
had been looted, with weapons and ammunition being a highly valued prize.
Alpha, Texas
had been a town of less t
han 10,000 residents and undergraduates.
Hunting was far more popular than any tactical endeavors, so the majority of the weapons found were not military grade by any sense. Still, the number of attackers was significant enough to keep everyone’s head down. While t
he majority of the church’s barricade
showed signs of battle damage, the skinnies had never been able to concentrate enough
firepower
to overwhelm the defenses. This stalemate had existed since the congregation had built the wall. Both sides knew it, and one defender was overheard saying, “Don’t these guys ever get tired of this silly game?”