CNN Special Report (September 17, 2014) - Congress has voted almost unanimously to enact the final revisions to the Patriot Act, hoping that these revisions will help to promote a safer, more productive country. The final elements of the former U.S. military have been deactivated and the resources from them diverted into the Department of Homeland Security's new police force the Army of Homeland Security. This new force will have total autonomy to protect the borders of the United States and see to the security and well-being of it's population. The new leader of the AHS, General Daniel C. Harken, has vowed to see America "enter a new golden age of peace and prosperity".1
The Boston Globe (January 3, 2015) - With riots and violent crimes escalating as a result of the perceived lack of civil rights by the populace, the Department of Homeland Security has declared a nationwide state of emergency and has moved troops into each major city to quell the civil unrest. Already, reports are coming in from all over the country of fatalities, both military and civilian.2
CNN (March 20, 2015) - Rioting has reduced vast amounts of Washington D.C. to rubble and violence against government facilities has reached epic proportions. To better combat this strain of violence, Congress has granted emergency powers to the Governors and to the AHS.3
Independent Publication (July 2015) - Congress has fallen! Soldiers of the AHS have taken the capitol and have imprisoned the members of the Executive Branch. With numbers swelling, General Harken has declared martial law and has begun shooting protestors on site. Terrorist attacks on AHS troops and facilities have begun occurring with astounding frequency and violence.4
CNN (October 11, 2015) - General Harken has finally withdrawn troops from the western United States to secure the eastern seaboard. In an unconfirmed report, witnesses have attested to seeing uniformed Mexican troops in major western cities.5
The London Globe (May 24, 2016) - With the final breakup of the former United States completed, civil war has broken out among the fractured remnants of the population. The faction calling itself the United Mexican Federation has finally completed the annexation of the majority of the former U.S. states of California, New Mexico, Texas, Nevada, Utah, and Arizona. The self-appointed president of the Federation, Carlos Hernandez, has instituted a reign of terror on who he terms "the white supremacist oppressors" whom he describes as performing acts of discrimination towards his people in years past. The Rocky Mountain Region including the former states of Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado remain hotly contested by the AHS and resistance elements of the former U.S. military and armed civilians...6
7
In September of 2014, the Congress of the United States finished enacting a series of laws, all but destroying the individual civil rights of the common citizens. This process was so gradual and complicated that all but a few were taken unawares. After finishing these laws, the military was disbanded and in its place was formed a new core of fanatically loyal soldiers labeled as the Army of Homeland Security. These soldiers had incredible power and acted as a law unto themselves. Soon, the leader of the AHS, General Harken, began exercising his power to greater and greater lengths, eventually abolishing and imprisoning the Congress itself. With this news, anarchy erupted as citizens chose sides. Some remained loyal to the Government, while others sided with General Harken and the AHS. But a minority still upheld the traditions and beliefs of freedom and self-reliance that had become no more than memories of a long-dead past...8
Chapter 19
Lieutenant Bryant stared out at the greenery moving past his vehicle and sighed. His platoon of Light Armored Vehicles and infantry had been patrolling the outskirts of Denver for a week now because of an anonymous tip of "suspected insurgents". Hah! He thought, it was probably a terrorist himself that gave us bad information! Bryant turned to look at the other vehicles in the small convoy, spread out in a line behind him. He sighed with pride as he saw the perfect formation which his men were holding, even with the tricky terrain.10
Bryant's eyes wandered toward what remained of the city of Denver, still burning from the voracious battle between elements of the 11th Battalion, 4th Company of the AHS and a well-armed group of rebels. The rebels had scattered after the fighting, but still lived. He was sorry for that. His men could be mopping up in the city instead of sightseeing in the countryside. There aren't any rebels out here anyway! He grumbled to himself. Just cows and trees. A wild goose chase is just the thing to destroy morale and the belief in the system! He angrily whipped his head back and forth, cursing the captain who had decided to send his unit instead of the more junior elements, claiming that the other units needed ‘blooding'.11
As his head moved again to the countryside, he was astounded to see...people! Instantly his mind went into overdrive, trying to fathom what he saw. He blinked, but the people were still there, calmly staring at his men and their vehicles. There attitude seemed relaxed, as if they belonged right where they were. There shouldn't be anyone here! This is a restricted area!12
Instantly, his finger depressed the mike stud on his vest, "Charlie six to Charlie two. I have unauthorized personnel at bearing zero two five. Move out and apprehend them."13
"Copy. Charlie Two is mobile."14
Bryant watched with satisfaction as the LAV to his right turned and began moving off before the receipt was even acknowledged. His smile changed to a frown when one of the citizens raised his hand to the oncoming vehicle. Grumbling to himself, Bryant moved his high-power binoculars to his eyes and focused on the cluster of people to the north. He brought the binoculars down, rubbed his eyes, and then reseated the optics over his eyes, making sure that he had seen correctly.15
That arrogant son of a bitch!16
The civilian was raising his hand, palm inboard, with his middle finger raised defiantly in the air. The smile on his face gleamed in the binoculars, causing Bryant to choke and sputter heatedly into his mike.17
"Charlie Two, this is Six. Civilians may not be compliant, they are exhibiting uncooperative behavior." He thought for a moment then added, "Charlie Three is en route to your position"18
"Roger, Charlie Two and Three in pusuit sir."19
Bryant looked over to where the third vehicle was moving out, slower than Two had. He sighed, wishing that he had some mechanics on hand to repair the LAV's engines. His had died in a terrorist attack some days ago.20
Bryant's attention was ripped from his administrative musings at a sharp pop from the direction of his second vehicle. Initially, all he could see was dust until the mountain breezes began to settle it. Then it became clear that his men were dismounting and moving away from their LAV in a hurry. Bryant fumed at the delay, assuming it to be another malfunction. He was getting ready to dispatch another vehicle when the panicked voice of Charlie Two came over the net.21
"All stations, All stations! Mines in the area. I say again! We have hit a mine!"22
Sergeant Samuels released his mike switch with shaky hands, looking over the front of his shredded LAV. Thankfully, he hadn't lost any of his men in the explosion. Raucous laughter greeted his ears from the direction of the civilians. Two were even coming down the hill towards him!23
Instantly, Samuels deployed two of his men to cover them while he went up to the approaching men. Studying them as they approached, they were obviously fit and well-fed, a rarity in this part of the war-torn continent. The apparent leader was a husky six-foot, and moved with feline grace while his companion seemed more nervous and trepid. The two men moved to within ten meters of Samuels and held their arms out, indicating that they were unarmed.24
Samuels shook himself out of his reverie, checking behind him to see what backup he had. Relieved, he saw that Charlie Three was still moving up to him, albeit with dismounts out checking the ground ahead of the slow-moving vehicle. He smiled and turned around, signaling the two men forward.25
They complied, arms still held out and stopped in front of him, submitting to a cursory search by one of his men, while the other covered them. The soldier signaled that they were clean, then moved back to cover the civilians while the sergeant talked to them.26
Samuels looked them over once more then smiled benignly, "well? What do you two want?"27
"We're mechanics on the farms out here. We were wondering if we could be of any assistance."28
Samuels looked at him with what he hoped wasn't taken as an incredulous expression, seeing as how everyone knew that no one was allowed to live out here. He looked back to the mangled mass of sharp metal and shredded machinery that made up the front quarter of the LAV and looked disbelievingly back on the two ‘farmers'. Their offer to help seemed genuine, but they couldn't possibly believe that they could fix the damage that the vehicle had sustained.29
Samuels sighed at the idiocy of it all. "No, you can't help. Get the hell out of here."30
He turned around towards his wrecked LAV, then snapped his fingers and turned back around with a leer. 31
"Ooooh wait," he chortled, "you're not allowed to be here anyways. Get on the fucking ground before I make you part of it."32
The taller civilian looked at him for a second, then spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground at Samuels' feet. He reached one hand up and idly scratched his head just behind the left ear.33
"You know what son?" He said as he worked the chaw around his mouth to the other side, "I don't think I'm going anywhere today."34
Samuels just stared. No one stood up to the AHS, nobody!35
He smiled evilly, working the Beretta pistol at his side out of the holster. This was always fun.36
"Well then I'll -"37
Those were the last words anyone would hear from Sergeant Brett T. Samuels, AHS, before his brains spattered the remains of his shredded LAV, combining with the brain matter from his two soldiers. Both likewise hit by rifle rounds.38
The snipers calmly racked additional rounds into their rifles with their cold, blue eyes impassive as they took aim on the vehicle commander of the second LAV.39
Aim, breathe, relax, squeeeeze...40
The shot took the driver under his left eye, splattering brain matter over the ECM antenna on the back of the truck. His virtually headless corpse folded into the cupola of the LAV to lay atop the gunner, who froze in revulsion right before he turned and vomited all over the controls. Looking up, he had just enough time to see the smoke trail coming towards him...41
42
Bryant watched in numbed horror as two of his LAVs and a dozen men were brought down by seemingly unarmed civilians in seconds, not even having time to react to the slaughter. He gulped as he depressed the mike stud, fingers slippery with sweat.43
"All units! Contact right! Engage at will."44
He released the mike and began issuing orders to his vehicle. Looking back down the line, his other three LAVs were turning into the civilians, main guns barking a continuous cacophony. Two of the LAVs mounted only the standard 25mm cannon, but the third had the experimental Flakrakker system.45
Similar to the old ZSU 23-4 it consisted of four 14.5mm antiaircraft guns with computer-assisted targeting. When it opened up on the insurgents, the sound shook the tank, the ground near it, and anyone foolish enough to stand too close. Tracers the size of softballs flew through the air in a large, oval pattern, blanketing the hillside with dust plumes and fire. Several of the dismounts from the vehicles were standing up in the vertical troop hatches, firing off a combination of small arms and 40mm grenade fire from their AIWs.46
The effect, for anyone who hadn't seen it before, was awesome. The hillside simply disappeared into dust, smoke, and fire. Trees, having withstood the elements for years, vanished into pieces no bigger than toothpicks. Granite boulders, immobile since the mountains had formed thousands of years ago, were blown to dust.47
When the barrage stopped, Bryant surveyed the hillside, satisfied. Nothing could have lived through that! He thought triumphantly. He chuckled softly, then realized the rest of his crew was doing the same.48
"Nothing like bringing some dissenting scum to justice for the system is there sir?" That was Douglas, the driver.49
"No son, there isn't" Bryant chuckled. He checked the hill again, the smoke was clearing finally, slowly revealing the pockmarked and blasted hillside.50
"Well done everyone. Let's start to move up and see if there's anything to recover of our brethren."51
The LAV revved and started to turn when Bryant felt the cold metal on the base of his skull.52
"I don't think you're doing anything of the sort, fucker."53
Bryant froze, even as his driver sat there, expectantly awaiting orders. His heart pounded as his mind raced, trying to find a way out, trying to figure out what to do. The cold voice settled it for him.54
"See you in hell."55
As did the .45 caliber hollow-point that entered his head at the base of his skull.56
57
The Colorado Rocky Mountains58
1430 12 July 201559
60
High up in a wind-swept valley in the Rockies, a game trail led past a cave in a rock face before continuing on up to the summit of the mountain, 14,354 feet in the air. It was into this cave that the triumphant freedom fighters walked, helping their injured comrades. 100 meters into the cave, past booby traps, hidden sentries, and early warning systems, the group exited out into a large, natural cavern. The cave system was actually quite large, and was even larger given the excavation by the troops there. The main cavern served as a staging area, letting teams going out or coming in stage their gear.61
The wounded went into a smaller cavern off to the north, where ex-Navy Corpsmen were already alerted and staged to deal with the worst of the injuries, a lucky shot from one of the AHS troops through the shoulder of one of the newest members of the resistance cell. Minor wounds were cleaned with water and alcohol, there simply weren't enough supplies to take care of every minor scratch and cut.62
The team leaders and squad leaders went into the eastern cavern, piled high with maps and charts, and walls liberally plastered with intelligence updates and maps. In the center of the room was the nerve center of the room, six tables arranged in a semi-circle facing two more tables. The six tables were piled with radios, papers, computers, and coffee cups. The attitude here was one of quiet frenzy, with everyone quickly and professionally going about the task of efficiently running the operations center.63
All the rest of the men went through the southern corridor, and after traveling 40 meters down past more early warning devices, they came to a heavy steel door mounted into the stone. The first man, a hulking ex-SEAL, bent his six foot six bulk down to put his eye in front of a small lens in the rock. After a moment there was a whirr and clunk as the door unlocked from the inside. The team members shuffled down a 20 degree down slope to a long chamber decked out like a high-school locker room. It was here that the men finally breathed a sigh of relief as they dropped their individual kit in the locker and box that were assigned to them.64
Joking and laughing as soldiers do after a fight, they stripped out of their dirty, sweat-stained BDUs and field equipment and without skipping a beat, stripped down their individual weapons and began the process of cleaning them, taking loving care of their sole lifeline in this time of unrest. Many a comment was directed at Sam Walker, an ex-Marine Special Forces member, for his bloody and theatrical kill of the AHS commander with his Colt 1911 pistol from two inches away.65
Several of these comments were coming from Greg Fuller, a SEAL, keeping alive the "professional rivalry" that has always existed between the members of the different branches of the armed forces. This was no exception.66
"Couldn't have been a very hard shot man." Fuller ribbed. "You could at least have backed up to a foot or so. That's still manageable for a jarhead, right?"67
"Piss off squid!" Came the expected response from no less than ten voices in the room. Walker turned to Fuller and very calmly eyed his weapon. "You gonna clean the carbon outa that thing...wait...no shots mean no carbon...and no hits mean you must be Navy. That's a shame." He smiled cheerfully. "Wanna help me with mine?"68
Amidst the jeers and laughter Fuller turned bright red and turned away, stowing his gear and muttering to himself, but it didn't take much imagination to know what he was saying.69
Walker chuckled and went back to cleaning his SR-25, first reloading his spent magazines and stowing them in a Pelican case, along with the rifle's suppressor. Then he expertly stripped the weapon and pulled the bolt, taking a cleaning kit and a rag out of his locker. Wiping away excess carbon first, he dropped a moderate amount of military-issue Cleaner, Lubricant, and Protector (CLP) onto various parts and began scrubbing them with a brush, chatting with his teammate Patches while he did so. Patches was Irish, no one held that against him though, as he was second to none in infiltration, sabotage, and a host of other things dealing with stealth and blowing stuff up. Patches had his G36 broken down similarly to Walker's SR-25 and was cleaning built-up carbon out of the barrel.70
The locker room was laid out lengthwise, with rows of lockers on each side, separated by about 6 feet to permit gear storage between them. Each team of four men was clustered together, two to a side. On the opposite side of Patches and Walker were the two newest members of the team, Johnny "Rambo" Smith and Brian "Buck" Johnson. The nicknames were given to all new guys, "boots" as they were called, usually upon doing something very interesting or very stupid...or both. Rambo got his name from the M60E that he toted around on missions, when one day he got the idea that draping a 100 round belt of 7.62mm rounds on each shoulder would permit him to access the ammo more quickly. Once the team leader saw this on the team's pre-mission inspections, he literally fell over laughing, hence Rambo. Buck was so named for an incident that happened about 6 months prior when he was on security in the field. He saw movement, engaged with a suppressed shot from his M4 and later found, in the bushes a deer. Not just any deer, but a 16 point buck lying dead with a hole clean through its head. He had been trying to shake the nickname for months now, but like with any good nickname the more the owner hates it, the more it sticks around.71
After an hour of cleaning gear, the team members began retiring to the barracks located at the back of the gear room. As Walker was finishing with his team's debriefing, Captain Sheridan walked in and motioned for Walker to follow. Dismissing the team, Walker followed in trace of the skipper up to the operations room where the other team leaders were also assembling. Talking amongst themselves proved useless, as it was readily apparent that, like all military operations, none of them knew anything before the ‘official' brief.72
Capt. Daniel Johnson was exactly the opposite of anything remotely resembling ‘handsome'. His squat body was sheathed in scarred muscle, with a nose that had been broken numerous times in furious bar brawls in his youth. He wasn't the meanest person, he just didn't take shit from anybody was all. From the look on his face, Walker knew this was going to suck.73
"Gentlemen," The skipper began, "I need a team of volunteers."74
Expectedly, every hand in the room went up.75
"OK. I'm going to walk over there and get a cup of coffee. By the time I get back I want you to have figured out an assault team, a support team, and an overwatch team. Get to it." Johnson said as he strode away.76
The six team leaders looked at each other expectantly.77
"Well? Rock paper scissors for assault?" Greg asked.78
A chorus of agreements chimed in. The six men divided into two groups of three. Odd men out after the first round would play each other. Winner was the assault force, second would be overwatch, and the others would decide who was support. Fists came up and down three times and Walker found himself faced off against Greg for the win.79
"Shoot on three" Walker said. "One, two, three" he called as he ‘threw' a rock to beat Greg's scissors.80
"Fuck" Greg griped. "Oh well, I got the last ‘blow shit up' mission."81
Walker looked at him curiously. "How do you know it's an explosive sabotage mission?"82
Fuller grinned, "Haven't you noticed? The skipper always asks for volunteers for a high-risk sabotage mission. I can infer that ‘sabotage' means ‘blow the holy living hell out of the target so even the squirrels can't live there for a decade'.83
Walker and the other team leaders looked at him curiously as they turned back towards the Captain.84
Several seconds later Captain Johnson returned and looked around expectantly.85
"I'm assault, sir." Walker said. "Fuller's overwatch, and Blackie's support." Todd "Blackie" Blackwell nodded as much as his hugely muscled neck could.86
"Good," the Captain said, "Now here's what we're going to do..."87
88
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Chapter 291
92
"They want us to do WHAT?" Buck wailed as Walker passed on the operations order.93
Rambo sunk his head in his hands, a position he had been occupying off and on for the last ten minutes of briefing. Slowly, he shook his head back and forth, then raised his hand, index finger and thumb forming the shape of a gun, put his finger to his head, and threw his thumb down as if shooting himself.94
Patches was gleefully smiling, eyes bright as the order was passed.95
"Yeah," Walker continued, "they, meaning the powers that be, want us to infiltrate Pueblo fuel farm...and blow the holy hell out of it." He paused for effect. "And if a column of M1A2s and LAVs are just happening to be refueling at that time, we should, and I quote, ‘make every effort to immobilize or otherwise incapacitate them' end quote."96
Buck looked at him for a second. Then at Rambo, then back at Walker. "You're insane boss. You want our team of four to infiltrate the most heavily defended installation between the Mississippi and the Rockies, and simply put, blow it up...without dying. Not gonna happen."97
"Oh yea of little faith. We'll be going in heavy and hard. Blackie's team will kick off the festivities with a little pyro show at the front gate, followed by Fuller's team taking out all the tower sentries on the southeast corner...simultaneously. We will then hop the berm, cut the wire, and proceed to blow the living shit out of as much stuff as we can. We'll be packing for close combat so bring a LOT of mags, grenades and demo. Rambo," The boot looked up expectantly, "you're still packing the -60." His face fell.98
Buck poked him in the side. "Make sure you have a couple hundred rounds accessible if you know what I mean." Walker laughed as Rambo knocked Buck over the back of his chair with an impressive sideswipe that connected under Buck's chin.99
Patches cracked a smile and then returned to his normal, frosty, self and looked at Walker. "How much demo ye want, lad?"100
"How much can you bring?"101
Patches scratched his chin theatrically. "Ohhh, Eh think eh c'n bring a hundred poonds er so."102
Buck coughed in disbelief. Patches turned to him. "Oh eye laddie. That's joost me tho. Yer gonna be carryin' the same, minus yer ammo weight."103
Walker looked at Buck and Rambo. "Face it fellas, we're infiltrating this place with enough boom-boom to blow France to hell and back...bad example. We're carrying a lot though. Mission step off in 18 hours, pack, eat, and rack out."104
The team went about sorting through bags of gear for the appropriate pouches.105
Soon enough, after eating and resting, the time was upon them and they ‘saddled up'. Digital Multi-Cam uniforms with no identifying marks went on over Underarmor thermals. Knives and back-up pistols were strapped on various appendages and escape and evasion gear was put in pockets and in ass-packs. Camouflage paint was applied by their buddies and by themselves in mirrors. Black stocking caps were put on, along with black nomex and Kevlar gloves.106
Gear differed from man to man as much as each man differed from his buddy. Walker opted for an old-style Load Bearing Vest with .45-cal magazine pouches rigged to the sides. His two quarts of emergency water flanked a buttpack at the rear of his gear and his map and GPS rode in pouches near the front. On his right thigh rode his holster with his Kimber Tactical Custom II .45 caliber 1911 pistol. Without skipping a beat he loaded it with a ten-round magazine and returned the love of his life to its resting place. Pulling an oiled Heckler and Koch UMP out of a wall rack, he checked it over quickly and racked the slide back, inspecting the chamber. Pulling another magazine out of his locker, he inserted it and sent the bolt home, chambering a round. Clipping it into his friction sling, he moved out to the operations center for a final mission brief. All told, he was wearing 20 30-round magazines and four fragmentation grenades.107
Patches opted for a slightly different approach, suiting his unique abilities. Loading his Rhodesian-style chest rig with 9mm magazines full of hollow-point ammuntition, he pulled an H&K MP-5 SD off of his weapons rack and loaded it, opting for a Glock 20 as a secondary and loading up his 15-round magazines. He then turned to his worktable and sighed as he lovingly ran his fingers over the hundreds of charges he and the other demolitions experts had prepared the night before. Carefully, he began stuffing them into the team's rucksacks.108
Buck, like Walker, chose an LBV, loaded with 5.56mm magazines for his favorite weapon. He lovingly pulled his M4 down from the rack and admired again the work the gunsmiths had done with it. The Picitanny rails on the front held a taclight, an IR laser, and an M203 40mm grenade launcher. The barrel had been shortened down to a half-inch above the front sight post, but the suppressor on the barrel made up the length, giving the whole weapon an overall length of just 30 inches with the stock extended. He frowned, then pulled out a lens cloth out of his locker and carefully wiped a smudge off of the rear lens of his EOTech holographic sight. God I love that sight. Opening an ammo can, he began stuffing 40mm High Explosive Dual-Purpose rounds into pouches on the sides of his LBV and on a thigh pouch that held 10. Done, he pulled out his .45 caliber Springfield XD and loaded it. All told, he was carrying 16 magazines and 14 40mm grenades along with frags and smoke grenades.109
Rambo scoffed at his teammate's actions as he loaded 200-round drums into a modified chest rig and his M60E. He would not be carrying as much equipment as his weapon was the only means the team had of laying ferocious amounts of lead downrange in a hurry. He put the machinegun down and pulled his Kimber Tactical Custom II .45 caliber pistol out of its case and chambering a round out of the 10-round magazine before ejecting the mag and replacing the round. That done, he reinserted the magazine and holstered the pistol. All of his pistol mags were arranged on a leg panel on his left leg, due to the bulkiness of his 7.62mm drums on his chest.110
The pre-mission prep done, the team moved up to the ‘Launch Ramp' and staged, awaiting final coordinating instructions. Shortly, the other two teams came up and staged their gear near them, heavy with pyrotechnics and scoped weapons. Blackie's team was loaded out heavy with automatic weapons, including two M240 machine guns, one Squad Automatic Weapon, and an M60E, along with their personal weapons and secondaries. Fuller's team, on the other hand, was travelling light and fast with scoped weapons exclusively and camouflage materials. They had a mix, unique to the individual shooters, of military and civilian-style rifles. Fuller's was the most impressive, a Tango-51 accurized rifle with a suppressor. Arguably the most expensive rifle in the group, when asked why he purchased it before the crackdown on privately-owned weapons he simply replied, "I like the ability to put 3 shots into a ¼ inch hole." The others' weapons included an M40A3, an M-14, and a German H&K PSG-1.111
Shortly, the team leaders joined up with their teams and the order was given to move out. The three teams left at 15-minute intervals, with the snipers leaving first, followed by the heavies, then Walker's assault team. As they moved out the team assumed a tactical column while moving around the mountains. It would take the whole night to move to within 5 kilometers of the fuel farm, which was about 10 kilometers north of the actual city of Pueblo. The assault would go down the next night. Slowly, the team made their way down the treacherous trails, past the early-warning sniper hides and the camouflaged caches of Surface-to-Air missiles. Finally arriving at the base of the Rocky Mountains, Walker gave the signal for a ‘wedge' formation, giving the team a spread-out formation for maximum firepower to all sides. The team members were staggered, looking in 360 degrees for a threat that may or may not exist. It never hurts to be alert.112
At 3 o'clock in the morning, after moving almost 20 miles, Buck gave the ‘freeze' hand signal. All the team members immediately froze in place, hyper-alert and scanning with their eyes for an apparent threat. Buck followed it up with a ‘get down' motion with his arm. Slowly, all four team members sank to the ground. Soon the cause of Buck's warning became apparent. Three IFAVs (Individual Fast-Attack Vehicle), a sort of mutant combination of a jeep and a humvee, came roaring across the foothills towards them. Walker looked back and nodded with appreciation as he noticed that the whole team had already dropped their rucksacks and had camouflaged ghillie blankets out and over themselves. He did likewise and settled in to observe while sipping from the hydration bladder in his ruck.113
Soon enough, the IFAVs came screaming up towards them but maneuvered almost at random. The drivers obviously weren't going anywhere in particular but they were heading right towards the team. Walker double-clicked his radio, warning the team to stand-to. The lead IFAV was only a couple of hundred meters away and slowed to a crawl, killing its lights. This is not happening Walker thought tiredly. His apprehension grew as the IFAVs kept rolling, eventually stopping directly over the patrol. Out of the corner of his eye Walker saw Rambo actually roll to his left so that he was directly under the second truck as it stopped to keep from getting run over. Walker reached slowly for his mike as the lead IFAV stopped mere meters to his right.114
The crews of the trucks began dismounting and Walker looked on in disbelief as the passenger of the truck near him took a hefty swig of what was obviously a bottle of liquor. They stumbled around, joking and laughing as Walker silently prayed that none of them would inadvertently step on one of the team. Suddenly, he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as one of the AHS soldiers unzipped his fly and began taking a leak on Buck's leg. Walker looked on incredulously as the soldier swapped jibes and comments with his buddies.115
"Hey bro, there ain't no rebels out this far. Just unwind man."116
"I'd feel better if we had security out." Responded another soldier, younger, as he held on to his rifle nervously.117
"Dude, you just need to relax. We're good out here. There ain't nothin' out here but, like, scrub and rocks for klicks in any direction, right sarge?" There was a long silence punctuated by a tentative, "Sarge?"118
Walker dared to look around and inwardly groaned as he saw the Sergeant's feet being drug behind the third IFAV. Patches reappeared at the corner of the IFAV, theatrically licking his tanto knife. Walker double-clicked his headset again and the ground exploded in a whirlwind of motion.119
Patches threw himself around the IFAV and skewered a Private in the throat with a vicious upward-thrust into his jugular vein, then whipped around and thrust into the stomach of a Corporal who was just turning around, eliciting a blood-curdling scream. A series of muted pop pop pops came from Buck's suppressed M4, dropping another three of the AHS troopers in a matter of seconds.120
For his part, Walker stood up and smiled at the back of the drunk AHS Private as he fumbled with his slung OICW, trying to make his fumbling fingers find the operating parts of the rifle. Walker shrugged and plunged his knife into the Private's back, severing the vertebrae at the top of his spine. The soldier collapsed into a heap without a sound. Turning quickly, Walker surveyed the battlefield. The rest of his team was quietly dragging the dead AHS soldiers back into their vehicles.121
"Leave them" Walker commanded, "torch the trucks, ruck up, and let's move, we've got another 4 miles to go and a harbor site to construct before first light.122
Without a sound the team members began loading the soldiers into their IFAVs again. Moving the vehicles next to each other, Walker liberally sprinkled diesel from the IFAV's gas cans onto the trucks. Pulling out an incendiary grenade he pulled the pin and casually tossed it into the passenger compartment of the lead truck. Two seconds later the grenade went off, instantly turning the three trucks into blazing infernos illuminating the ground for a hundred meters around them but revealing nothing of the ghosts that had killed the squad of troops.123
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Chapter 3125
126
Walker snapped awake and blinked in the sunlight as the shaking on his arm stopped.127
He turned his head to see Buck looking at him. Walker blinked again and took a swig from his Camelback in his ruck. Adjusting his gear as much as possible in the prone position he was in, he sighed and nodded to Buck. Buck nodded back and passed over a small notebook containing the observation log. The log was simply a chronological record of everything the previous sentries had seen in the area when they were on security. When Walker had the log Buck winked and laid his head down in his rucksack and was promptly asleep. Walker groaned inwardly and lifted his head up to see out of the camouflage netting resting across the team and their gear.128
The team was 100 meters up a hillside, only five kilometers from the Pueblo fuel farm. Having arrived only an hour before first light, they had not had time to construct anything elaborate, just a shallow pit large enough to hold the four men side by side with their rucks above them. The hide was covered with a large camouflage net, simply thin but tough string woven into a net with one-inch openings. Into this net was woven burlap, canvas, and natural vegetation gathered from the area to camouflage the net identically to its surroundings. The team members could see out but no one walking by would suspect that this particular patch of ground held four troops and their gear.129
Walker sighed inwardly again and surveyed the area while sipping water and pulling out his small notebook to put another entry into his patrol log. After updating the log, he swung his binoculars up to his eyes and observed the plains at the foot of ‘their' hill. The binoculars were ‘cat-eyed' with green duct tape, leaving only a small slit for light to pass through, which cut down on light transmission through the optics but prevented anyone from seeing sunlight glaring off the lenses. Looking out at the plains Walker looked for any sign of enemy movement. Anything he saw would not be reported to the command post in the mountains twenty miles north as the team only carried one satellite phone for emergencies and no radios except for their small Motorollas with headsets, which didn't have the range. No, this observation was simply to make sure no one was going to compromise their team.130
After an hour of observation, without taking his eyes off the area, Walker shook Patches awake. Passing off the observation log and binoculars, Walker laid his head back for what seemed a moment before being shaken awake by Buck again. And so the cycle continued until dark.131
As the sun began to set, Rambo shook the whole team awake. Still groggy with sleep, the team turned outboard of the hide site and observed the area until true darkness had set in. On the command from Walker, the team broke down the camouflage netting and Buck began filling in the hole. Patches did a quick check on the multitudes of explosive devices carefully packed into the rucksacks while Rambo and Walker provided security. After finishing their tasks Patches and Buck wolfed down a pre-packaged meal and slugged down some water, then took the other two's positions as security while Walker and Rambo did their pre-mission checks and ate.132
When the whole team was done, Walker consulted his map and pressed his hand three times against his shoulder to give the signal to ‘ruck up'. The team quietly and quickly got into their ruck straps and hoisted themselves to a kneeling position. After a moment Walker pushed his hand from his shoulder outwards toward the objective ending with his fingers extended, pointing in the next direction of movement.133
As before, the team adopted a wedge formation on their short march to the fuel farm, just two hills away to the south. They covered the distance quickly, arriving at the outskirts of the fuel farm before 0100. Pulling out the camouflage net, the team dropped three of the rucksacks and concealed them in a depression. Patches unloaded everything except explosives from his ruck and accepted the explosives from the other team members. They, in turn, loaded Patches' other gear into their rucks, just in case they had to make a quick getaway.134
Finished, Patches shouldered the rucksack and took a knee giving Walker a thumbs-up as he did so. The team moved up to within 200 yards of the double fence surrounding the compound. Walker consulted his watch and motioned that they had 20 minutes before the game kicked off.135
The compound was a huge rectangle. Four watch towers with belt-fed automatic weapons guarded the corners of the compound with searchlights. A double chain-linked fence topped with a double strand of razor wire encircled the area, providing a buffer between the fuel farm and the surrounding foothills. The north side of the fuel point was covered in two acres of concrete with large steel hatches sitting flush with the ground. The east and west sides were divided into lanes with large fuel hoses sitting twenty meters apart along low concrete walls. Each lane was large enough to accommodate ten large vehicles each. The south side of the complex was a series of low-slung buildings to house workers and AHS guards. The thirty buildings sat in neat, orderly rows with doors on all four sides.136
Walker looked again at his watch and motioned the team to stand ready. Looking through night-vision goggles each member of the team watched one guard tower. Precisely at 0130 all four sentries dropped to the floor of the towers.137
"Go!" Walker whispered urgently to the team. The four men rose as one and advanced to the perimeter fence like shadows in the night. Once there, Buck unslung the bolt cutters that had rested across his back and got to work on the fences. In a matter of minutes the team had a man-sized hole through both fences and regrouped in the lee of a generator.138
"Ok guys, you all know your missions. Split into your teams and rendezvous here in twenty."139
The men split into two teams and moved quickly to target points around the complex. Walker and Rambo moved up to the buildings and began a quiet rove around them, looking and listening for any sign of a reaction by the soldiers sleeping soundly inside. Patches and Buck moved clockwise around the compound, placing the more than 150 pounds of explosives on key points. Most notably were the great steel doors over the fuel reserves and the fueling points. The fueling points were rigged with thermite munitions and the doors with shaped charges. Charges were also set on the buildings and several points on the fences. Eight charges went onto the four guard towers, one on each support leg facing out of the complex. Finally, the last charges to be placed were improvised claymore mines at some of the entrances to the living quarters. They had wanted to trap all of the doors, but the amount of explosives would have been too much to carry. Their preliminary work done, Buck and Patches moved back to the shelter of the generator. At exactly twenty minutes Rambo and Walker crept up to the generator.140
Walker looked at Patches who held up a finger in the classic ‘wait' motion. From his pack he pulled out several trash bags. Into each of these went a large thermite charge, the air was sucked out of the bag, the bag was sealed, and then was double-wrapped with another bag and sealed. Patches counted out six of them, gave three to Buck and took three himself. Done, he nodded to Walker.141
Walker nodded back and keyed his small Motorolla. "Alpha to all units, crank ‘em up." The code was deliberately misleading, as anyone listening in would probably be looking or listening for vehicles, not people, which wouldn't matter in a few seconds. Finished, Walker nodded to Patches who held up a remote control and held up three fingers, then two. His hand moved back to the initiator, waited for a count of one and pressed the switch. Instantly, all the charges around the compound detonated in a titanic cacophony. The fuel doors blew open, or more precisely, blew in, sending geysers of fuel into the blinding mockery of hell that the fuel farm was rapidly becoming. The charges on the towers went off, collapsing three of them onto the fence, which had been rendered useless with six of the charges blowing gaping holes around the perimeter. Finally, the thermite charges on the fuel stations went off, instantly igniting the lines and destroying the stations.142
After the initial riot of light and noise, there was quiet. No alarms were sounded as the guard towers had the alarm panels, an unexpected bonus. The team was already moving as the first booby trap went off to a chorus of screams and cries. Then another, and another. Then silence. Muted calls for help and screams of pain gradually filtered through the night.143
Patches and Buck raced out to the six huge fuel doors, pressing buttons on each individual charge before dropping them one by one into the lake of fuel sitting beneath the concrete pad. As they dropped charges, Rambo and Walker sat prone, waiting for the inevitable shooting to begin. Soon enough, infantry began to filter through the smoke and dust, still disoriented, some in firefighting gear. One by one they began to drop from accurate shots from Walker's UMP and short bursts of 7.62mm rounds from Rambo's M60. Eventually, the word seemed to spread and the soldiers began taking cover and firing back, mostly wildly over their chosen place of concealment.144
Buck dropped his last charge and spun, releasing three rounds from his M4 into the chest of an oncoming AHS soldier. The man's rifle spat a single round into the air as the dying trooper spasmed on the trigger, then was silent. Buck quickly scanned for more targets and was sent diving to the ground by a burst of automatic fire from the buildings.145
"Patches! We've got to get out of here!"146
"Ye na've gotta tell me laddie!" The Irishman laughed, running by, "those charges'll go up any minute!"147
"What?" Buck screamed incredulously, leaping to his feet to catch the crazy saboteur, "you don't know how long the charges are set for?"148
"Nae laddie. Adds a little...somethin' don'tcha think?" Patches laughed as he sprinted for the team's primary egress point.149
"You're insane!"150
Walker swapped another magazine into his UMP and chanced a look back. Patches and Buck were in full flight to the egress point. That was never a good sign when the demolitionist was running, no, sprinting away from his charges.151
"Rambo! We gotta go NOW!"152
Rambo didn't hesitate, just rolled to his left and stood up in one motion, already moving towards the fence. Walker turned and fired a long burst towards the buildings to keep their heads down and sprinted after him.153
"Alpha to all units ENGAGE, ENGAGE!"154
At his call, the snipers and machine gunners around the east side of the complex opened up with everything they had. Tracers cut into the already thinned ranks of the guards, who were caught completely off-guard as was planned. Snipers using night vision attachments to their scopes sought out and took down anyone looking like they might be giving orders. In the span of seconds, twenty more men were down and the others diving for cover from the murderous streams of concentrated automatic fire. Greg Fuller scanned the compound through his Horus Vision scope and spotted one soldier crouched behind a barricade, shouting orders to the others. His orders and gestures soon turned to gurgles and spasms as a 7.62mm match-grade bullet tore the better part of half of his neck off. Fuller smiled in satisfaction as another of his men, Emmett McCarthy, scored a brutal gut-shot on another leader, his screams adding to the chaos and panic gripping the bewildered AHS troopers in the depot.155
"Alpha to all units, we're clear, begin withdrawl."156
Seconds later, there was nothing but silence on the mountainside. In the compound, frightened AHS soldiers kept putting long bursts into the surrounding hills and vegetation until it became apparent that no return fire was coming back.157
Lance Corporal Brian Verin kicked one of his squadmates, "stop shooting you idiot. They aren't there anymore."158
"How can you be sure?" The private asked as he fired another burst into a bush.159
"Because if they were still here, we would still be dying"160
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