These Dead Lands: Immolation (44 page)

“Roger, Apache. We should be over your position as soon as we link up with the other aircraft. Over.”

“Lakota, be advised, we ran into heavy resistance around the Hershey Park area on the way here,” Guerra said. “We may need a lot of help from you in getting my force through that section of road. Over.”

“Good copy, Apache. Lakota, out.”

The ORP was on the other side of the Swatara Creek at the underpass of 322 and Fiddles Elbow Road. The creek and the underpass were easily identifiable features that Guerra felt everyone could remember and find in the heat of the moment. He would wait at the Objective Rally Point for the others to link up. If they didn’t show up within twenty minutes, whomever he had with him would move out along the egress route, as per the plan.

Guerra had to give his guys time to catch up to the rest of the convoy before they continued because they would pass close to Hershey Park not far up the road. They had avoided the thousands of reekers there before, but Guerra wasn’t at all convinced their luck would hold for a second run.

“Give me two vehicles up the road about a hundred meters pulling security,” Guerra said over the radio as his Humvee pulled up to the underpass. “Same on our six.”

Like most of the roads in that area, the famed and time-tested Jersey barriers were popular lane separators. While their presence was almost never ideal for road movements, they worked to cut off all avenues of approach except for the front and rear. Guerra recognized that as the best of a shitty situation, but he didn’t want to stay there too long. Speed was security, and as long as what was left of the convoy was moving, they would be a hard target to hit.

He got on the radio again. “All Apache elements, this is Apache Actual. We are occupying the ORP at this time, and the twenty-minute clock starts now. Break. Cross-level ammo and weapon systems as needed. Break. Senior man in each vehicle, send me your ACE report, ASAP. Over.”

Goddamn, I sure as fuck picked a bad day to stop sniffing glue
. He popped open the door and stepped out of the idling Humvee. Looking back, he saw that fire and smoke continued to rise into the sky. It was actually quite peaceful on the side of the road at the moment, despite obvious signs of the apocalypse on the near horizon. In the distance, he could just make out the sounds of the approaching Chinooks. Confident that his air support would be on-station soon, Guerra hefted his rifle into an easy firing position and walked down the line of vehicles. The men were reloading magazines, opening ammo cans, and prepping the belt-fed weapons. As they worked, many were drinking water or shoving food into their mouths. No one had to be told what to do; they all knew that if they didn’t take the brief opportunity to eat and rehydrate, they might not get a chance later in the game.

“Apache Actual, this is OP Two. We have vehicles coming across the bridge. Over,” said a voice over Guerra’s headset. OP Two was the security element that had displaced to the rear of the convoy.

“This is Apache Actual. They look like ours? Over.”

“Roger, military vehicles. Over.”

Good news
. “Let them know we’re rolling out shortly and to level up. Out.”

Looking down the row of vehicles, he could see a few were missing. But he had most of his people, and he knew he’d need them to make it through the next town and back to the base.

“Apache One Two, this is Lakota One One. Over.”

“Lakota One One, this is Apache. Over.”

“Apache, we’ve linked up with the other aircraft,” Hastings said. “The train from objective two is underway at this time. Let me know when you’re ready to move. Over.”

Guerra checked his watch. He had five more minutes before the convoy was due to roll out. “Roger, Lakota. Wait. Out.” Guerra cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “We roll in five, people! I need those ACE reports now!” He went back on the radio. “Lakota, we roll in five mikes. How copy? Over.”

“Roger, five mikes,” Hastings responded. “War Eagle advises that the Shadow has eyes on the trains, so we’ll fly escort for you the remaining way. Over.”

“That’s good news. I think we’re gonna need all the help we can get for this next part. Over.”

“Copy. Let me know when you’re ready to roll. Lakota, out.”

Guerra turned and headed back to his Humvee. On the way, he pulled out his map and the aerial still picture taken from one of the Shadow feeds. Back in the planning phase, taking US 422 on the return route made plenty of sense, but Guerra was no longer sure that was a good idea. And the more he looked at the map and the imagery, he realized he was right. They could stay on US 322 and avoid the built-up areas that US 422 would take them through. That route was longer but mostly through open agricultural-looking fields. Even if the roads were blocked, he felt sure they could go off-road without issues. Anything was better than having to run the convoy through the area around Hershey with the huge number of reekers hanging out there.

They could take US 322 just past the city then catch a smaller side road that fed diagonally back into US 934, effectively cutting off a large portion of the route. That would bring him out just south of Annville and US 422, which was where the original route had the convoy turning to head back to the base anyway.

Guerra was starting to feel a bit better about what was coming up. He only had to run it by Hastings. “Lakota One One, Apache One Two. Over.”

“Apache One Two, go. Over.”

“Lakota One One, I want to run something by you and FRAGO the plan if you’re good with it. You have your overhead imagery with you? Over.”

“Affirmative. What do you have in mind? Over.”

Guerra briefed Hastings on the proposed new route, referencing all the relevant streets so the captain could follow along. It didn’t take long.

“Wait one,” Hastings responded after Guerra had made his pitch.

By that time, Guerra was safely ensconced inside the Humvee. He checked his watch. It was about time for the convoy to roll.

A few minutes later, Hastings came back. “Makes sense to me, and the pilots say it’s not going to affect their fuel situation. You’re cleared hot to do it, Apache One Two. Over.”

“Roger, Lakota One One. That’s what we’re gonna do. Give me an additional five mikes to brief my people, and then we’re rolling. Over.”

“Good copy. Out.”

Guerra made a few additional notes on his map, switched frequencies, and keyed his radio again. “All Apache elements, be prepared to move in five mikes. Break. I need to see the senior man from each vehicle at my position. Over.”

Five minutes later, the convoy moved out. The senior man in each vehicle would brief the the rest on the new plan as they drove.

“Lakota One One, this is Apache One Two. Over.”

“This is Lakota. Over.”

“Apache is moving. How copy? Over.”

“Good copy, Apache. We have visual on you. Over.”

The convoy was making good time. The drivers had plenty of practice at moving abandoned or damaged civilian vehicles out of the way or avoiding them altogether. The few times they had to pause rarely lasted for more than a minute before they were rolling forward again. The Chinooks hung several hundred meters off to one side. The lack of any significant reeker presence along the new route was a welcome reprieve.

When the convoy came to the interchange outside of Hershey, the reekers were there in full force, and the column had to pay attention to them as they motored down US 322. The Chinooks were slightly offset, moving over the Hershey Park area.

Hastings called on the radio. “Apache One Two, Lakota. Over.”

“This is Apache. Over.”

“Good call on the route change, One Two. There is massive reeker presence on the ground right along the planned exfil route. You look good from where we are. How is it on the ground? Over.”

“Lakota, Apache. It’s not bad. We have small groups we’re dealing with, but we’re almost out of the suburbs now. Over.”

“Good copy. Lakota, out.”

Guerra had to take the convoy off road and go cross-country a few times. The column crossed the intersection of US 117, and their turn was coming up soon. They had roughly fourteen miles to go to get to the base, by Guerra’s calculations.

The road had opened up considerably. It was empty for long stretches, with no reekers in sight. The convoy was able to accelerate up to fifty-five miles per hour for a time before it had to slow down to pass through Annville. But even then, they were still moving at a respectable speed.

“Lakota One One, Apache One Two. Over.”

“Go, Apache.”

“We just passed through Annville without issue, and the road is clear. Over.”

“Roger, good copy. War Eagle is aware of our change and is still tracking the trains via the Shadow. Over.”

“Lakota, let War Eagle know we’re about twenty mikes out. I don’t want OP Two firing us up as we roll up on them. Over.”

“Roger, will advise them. Wait. Out.”

Guerra was starting to feel the energy drain and crash that followed a massive adrenaline dump, and he knew his guys were going to be in the same boat.
We’re almost home. This isn’t the time to get sloppy
. “All Apache elements, this is Apache Actual. Be advised we are twenty mikes out from OP Two. Keep your eyes open. Over.”

Hastings came back over the radio. “Apache One Two, Lakota. Over.”

“Go, Lakota.”

“War Eagle is going to maintain eyes on the trains via Shadow. All BOXCAR elements will RTB with your convoy. Over.”

“Good copy, Lakota. Apache One Two, out.”

Less than twenty minutes later, the convoy passed through the gates of Observation Post Two. Guerra felt a wave of relief at being back on the base. He watched as the three remaining Chinooks headed to the ramp at Muir Army Airfield before he keyed his mike.

“All Apache elements, stand by at the staging area. Senior man each vehicle, I’ll need to see you at my vehicle. Out.”

Even though Guerra was thrilled to be back inside the Gap’s confines, what came next was the hard part. He had to get a good count on who was KIA and which vehicles and equipment had been lost. And thinking ahead, he’d have to organize the mission in his head, as he was sure the officers would have a lot of questions for him. Officers always did.
After all, how many days do you go out on mission and smoke a bunch of Jehovah’s Witnesses?

He also made a mental note to have a word with Stilley about that stunt he pulled with the Radio in a Box system on the objective. The damn thing was probably still playing music, for all he knew. He wasn’t sure whether it was going to be an ass chewing or an attaboy conversation—he’d have to chew on that one for a while.
There just ain’t no rest for the wicked these days
.

*

As soon as
the aircraft landed, Hastings headed to the TOC. En route, he called Guerra to let him know he needed to meet him there as soon as possible. He was met by Colonels Victor and Jarmusch.

“Welcome back, Captain Hastings,” Victor said.

“Thank you, sir. Sergeant Guerra will be joining us shortly, and then we can begin the debrief.”

“Guerra?” Jarmusch looked a bit perplexed. “What about Sergeant First Class Ballantine?”

“Ballantine gave me a quick info dump regarding his mission’s particulars, sir. I can speak on his behalf. I haven’t anything from Guerra yet, which is why he’s on his way over.”

Jarmusch nodded, apparently satisfied with that.

“Where are the trains now, sirs?” Hastings asked.

“Last update we received, they were passing through Myerstown,” Victor said. “That was about five minutes ago, though.”

“Any issues?”

Victor shook his head. “None that I’m aware of. All three trains are moving along unhampered. We estimate they should be at the unloading point in about two hours, give or take.”

Guerra walked into the TOC, and Hastings thought the Hispanic soldier looked as though he’d been put through the ringer. As Guerra neared the group, Hastings and the colonels welcomed him back.

“What about the trains?” Guerra asked.

“Trains are on their way. Should be here in two hours,” Hastings said.

Guerra shook his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m glad that’s over.”

“You and me both. We’re gonna do a quick fifteen-minute info dump, and then you can put your guys into rest and refit.”

“Sounds good to me, sir. They’ve earned it.”

Hastings smiled. “No doubt about that. Let’s go knock this shit out now.”

They turned and walked into the conference room. Several members of the command staff were already there, setting up the required presentation and recording materials. Hastings sighed. It was going to be another long session.

*