Quietly and with precision, BB provided range and new targets. Shots rang out in quick succession and his confirmation to Marty after each made it clear he was on target.
“He’s good,” said Mickey, watching.
“Yeah, I see that,” said Captain Daubney, impressed.
Connor broke the adulations. “We move now! Let’s go. We don’t wanna be around when Phoenix gets pissed and regroups.”
“All move, now!” said Captain Daubney. His voice was strong, yet quiet. He was used to issuing orders in the heat of battle and when the enemy was close.
Roger hustled the children and his wife tight into the group; they made for a fast escape southwest of town. Another explosion erupted from inside the gates, no one looking back. Connor and Daubney slipped ahead of the team, all making good progress through the wheat. Another explosion, mostly muffled by distance was ignored. They regained Route 51 emerging near an overpass. They were back on track toward Uniontown and the rendezvous.
“Shit!” said Connor, glancing back at the chaos. Gauging distance, he caught a good portion of the army ignoring the burning town. Instead, that portion was pouring toward them, almost as if they suspected he and his team where trying to slip by during the confusion. “What the hell?”
“They know we’re involved, sir. Trying to catch up fast,” said the captain.
“I see that!”
White trucks bullied through the maze of abandoned vehicles beyond the cleared kill zone. Frenzied men rushed ahead of the trucks pushing and dragging disabled cars and debris outta the way by sheer numbers. Cavalry patiently waited behind the trucks, obviously instructed to stay in reserve for the moment.
“Damn, we stirred the beehive. We run full out. Top, you and Green Team take back cover for us, now!”
A shot rang out and Jackson dropped, yelling, leg bursting with blood.
“Jackie’s hit! Shot from over there. The left! 10:00!” yelled Mickey.
“There’s an advance team nearly past us, Mac! Shit!” said Captain Daubney.
“Jackson, talk to me,” asked Mickey.
“Knee cap’s busted, fuck! Need help—Oh.” The grimace of pain pushed forth into his face despite Jackson’s best efforts. He tried to stand, wrapping a bandana around the knee. He winced as he hopped on one leg.
A bullet whizzed past Connor’s ear, so close the air sliced with heat. He spoke calmly. “Captain, BB, assist Jackson.”
BB ducked low, but not before a bullet grazed his left shoulder. “Yes, sir.” He ignored the slice to his deltoid, the pain minimal.
“Everybody stay down for a second. Marty?”
“Yeah, Mac?”
“Find ’em! Find them fuckers on the left, now! Roger, come here and bring Cody. Locate those shooters!”
Roger and Cody slipped close to the main team, weapons ready. Tucking tight with Connor near the abandoned cars, they sought the enemy to their left.
“Captain, locate. Locate! We hafta pass these shooters.”
“Jason, Jude, get those horses outta harm’s way. We’re gonna need ’em!”
A shot punched the door near Renaldo and Gabriella, inches from the back of John McLeod’s head.
“I see ’im! Ten and nine o’clock. Behind that tractor,” said BB.
Marty lined up his sniper rifle and sent each bullet carefully toward its target. In a fury as yet unseen, Jude threw his last and only grenade toward the tractor with all his strength. The grenade came up a bit short, but rolled into the wheat nearby. The explosion lit up the area with several enemy flinching from shrapnel in the aftermath. Roger spotted a prone figure not too far away from the explosion. Marty caught the same image and Roger saw the man crumple atop his weapon. Mickey and his men rushed into the fray, Edgars, Burroughs and Rice providing staggered cover fire; they slipped toward Phoenix’s advance team using cars and guardrail as effective cover.
“Go!” said Mickey, “Go, colonel! Go, captain! We got this.”
The entire unit ran through the wreckage of cars and debris while Mickey and his team held back cover, defending their rear. The wave of the army in the distance rushing toward them was impressive.
“Jason get those kids and Ronnie on the horses once we’re fifty yards further out of range!”
“Yes, sir!”
“It’s gonna be a real situation if we don’t slow them down, Mac.”
“Tell me about it Surf Boy. Grab Jude. Take the eastern edge. BB, take the west with Roger. Keep everyone moving away up passed that underpass. Surf Boy, BB, I want you to take position there, if need be.”
“Copy that.”
“Yes, sir,” said BB.
“Captain?” asked Jackson, weapon ready. He was still in pain, but the adrenaline rushing through his body made him more mobile than most.
“Jackson, you’re with me. C’mon. Let’s set up a last little surprise a hundred yards after that underpass to slow that army down. Knowing these combat inexperienced pussies, they’ll think we’re gonna load up on the underpass and bring it down.”
“Hoorah,” said Jackson, understanding the plan.
“But, let’s give them a healthy surprise as if we did just that. Surf Boy, set some trip wires beneath that underpass with a few grenades, okay?”
“Copy that.”
“They’ll think that’s all we have left. Now, I know the remainder of the C-4 not much—”
“It’ll do, Mac. Just line me up besides,” suggested Captain Daubney, “Bastard’s hit Jackie.”
“Let’s take it to them, cap’n.”
“Yes, sir.” Captain Daubney was firing rounds at the army nearly a hundred yards away with an impressive accuracy. Connor considered the three enemy who tumbled off horses in quick succession.
“Some good shootin’, cap’n.”
“Just getting started, sir.”
Connor fired several rounds of his own into the mix. Not one shot missed. He was targeting the men working to move debris from the road. When opportunity presented itself, he took anyone near the white trucks.
Jackson fired at the white trucks trying to take out the tires. Not being able to kneel in his favored firing position, he used the cars for rifle support as they faded south on Route 51. Connor took in the target selection of his team and smiled. Each man was spontaneously filling a need and complimenting the others in their efforts to slow the advance team and massive army Phoenix had brought to bear.
“We move back fifty, now!”
They ignored the bullets striking metal around them.
CHAPTER 10.18-Learning Mode
“So, you’re part of Harmon’s Army, Keenan? Who’s he?”
“General Mark Harmon runs Nemacolin Woodlands Resort, colonel.”
“General? Self-made, I’m guessing. Nemacolin?”
“Yeah, it’s a decent-sized five-star mountain resort with everything you’d expect.”
“A five-star resort you say? Even now?”
“Oh, yeah. Hah, you don’t believe me, I can see. But, even now, General Harmon’s managed to keep that place suitable for the bigger players in the area, like you, Madam President.”
“It’s Hannah for now, Keenan.”
“Trust me, General Harmon will be excited that you’re real and here! Right, Evan?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hannah held out her hand. “Sorry, I know we were introduced before, but who are you?”
“Captain Evan Dawson, Madam President.” He tried his best not to be intimidated at meeting the President of the United States.
“Ma’am. He’s my second,” said Keenan, “He’s a man you’d want with you in a firefight, Hannah.”
“Captain, nice to meet you.”
“Madam President—”
“It’s Hannah, please. What are your thoughts on all this, captain?”