Mel Odom - Apocalypse unleashed

“Yes,” Remington replied.

“I am convinced that you would have done well on your own, but I thought maybe quick action on my part might save a few lives.”

“It will.”

“Then I am pleased I was able to be of assistance. Your people are still in dire straits, and those lands-as well as the Middle East-are going to be hotly contested in the coming days.”

“They always have been.”

“And there will be no change in that,” Carpathia said. “That is why I want to start recruiting.”

“Recruiting?”

“Yes. To the army I am going to build. I want to make some positive changes in the world, and to do that, I need a force that will be able to respond quickly and decisively to threats. I need a win in Turkey, and I think you are just the man to give it to me. I had planned to ask you at a later time, but since the subject has come up…”

Remington found himself hanging on Carpathia’s every word.

“I would like you to be part of this new world force,” Carpathia said.

“I’ve already got a career with the army,” Remington said.

“I want you as a colonel. I am prepared to offer you a full commission whenever you are ready.”

Remington’s mind spun. If that happened, he’d be a very young colonel. He’d also, his thoughts assured him, be a very powerful colonel in a position to make a name and a career for himself in Turkey.

“I want young men in this endeavor,” Carpathia said as if reading his mind. “And I want them in positions of authority. In short, I want you.”

Remington stared at the smoldering battlefield visible on the computer screens. “Let me figure out what I’m doing here first, and I’ll be happy to talk with you about it sometime soon.”

“Good,” Carpathia responded. “We shall talk soon. In the meantime, see to your men.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Remington ended the connection and gazed out at the battlefield as it changed once again. He couldn’t help thinking about Carpathia’s offer.

Colonel Remington.

He liked the sound of that. And all he had to do was survive to claim it.

Outside Sanliurfa

Sanliurfa Province, Turkey

Local Time 1630 Hours

Goose knelt under a copse of young trees atop a hill that overlooked the big plain just outside Sanliurfa. The journey on foot back to the city had been arduous. The pain in his knee was constant now. But at last they had made it to the city. Now all they had to do was wait for their chance to get inside.

He tracked the action with his binoculars. Things had looked bad, but it seemed Cal Remington had turned the tables on the Syrians with a surprise aerial attack that had orphaned part of the invading army. Goose didn’t know where the additional planes had come from, but now if the Syrians wanted to press on, they had to do so with increased risk and over the bodies of their own people and the remains of their destroyed vehicles.

“What’s going on?” Chaplain Miller asked. It was hard to carry on a conversation with all the explosions and gunfire, but he leaned over Goose’s shoulder and spoke into his ear.

“We’re holding our own,” Goose replied. “Don’t know where the captain got the additional munitions, but he’s putting them to good use.”

Miller squinted. “Are those United Nations insignias on the new planes?”

“Maybe so. The Syrians seem as surprised as we are.”

Icarus hunkered down only a short distance away. Dried blood covered the side of his face and one ear. He frowned. “Aren’t you a little curious about where the help came from, Sergeant?”

“Not at this particular moment,” Goose replied. “I’m just glad they found their way here. Otherwise the city might have been overrun.”

“At some point,” Icarus said, “you should ask where the planes came from.”

“What are we going to do?” Miller asked.

Goose lowered his binoculars and put them away. “We’re going to lie low, sir. Dig in where we can, hope the Syrians don’t stumble across us, and wait for night to cover us over. Then we’re going to try to return to Sanliurfa. Without getting killed.”

All of that was easy to say. Accomplishing it was going to be a different matter entirely. Goose stretched his bad knee out and sat next to a tree behind a wall of brush. Rain soaked his clothing, and he felt miserable. He kept his rifle next to him.

He turned his face up into the rain and slowly drank to preserve the water he had in the LCE. Then he looked at the line of destruction Remington had wrought. Glancing at Icarus, Goose knew that getting back didn’t necessarily mean they would be safe.

Someone had sent those men to ambush them, and Goose didn’t think that was the only team assigned the task of killing Icarus. With the primary team out of play, a secondary team should have been put into the field.

It was what he would have done if the roles had been reversed.

He settled in and tried to find a new position for his knee but failed. He waited for the sun to set and wondered if he’d live to see the morning.

Southern District

Sanliurfa, Turkey

Local Time 1647 Hours

“Colonel Remington. Major Rebreanu at your service.” The man saluted smartly.

The title sounded like music in Remington’s ears as he gazed at the sharply dressed United Nations major standing in front of him. He didn’t bother to point out that he hadn’t yet accepted Carpathia’s offered commission.

“Major.” Remington returned the man’s salute.

“I’ve been instructed by SecretaryGeneral Carpathia to put myself and my men at your disposal.”

“Acknowledged, Major. Glad to have you.”

The man stood at rigid attention. He was medium height but broad shouldered. His uniform blouse stretched across his chest, and his muscles rolled beneath his skin. His square jaw thrust out prominently.

“At ease,” Remington said.

Rebreanu fell into parade rest and stood beside the jeep that had brought him to meet Remington. Three other soldiers stood with him. All of them wore the bright blue helmets of the United Nations Peacekeeping Forces.

“I’ll depend on you to keep me up-to-date with your staff, Major,” Remington said. “When I get more time, I’ll know them all.”

“Yes, sir. I’d be happy to help.”

Remington wondered if that was true. Getting ordered into a potentially highly lethal losing situation wasn’t something any soldier would wish for. He wouldn’t have wanted to be Rebreanu.

“We need to shore up the south end of the city,” Remington said. “Create some space between ourselves and the Syrians. I don’t want them inside the metro area if I can help it.”

“Yes, sir. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

That, Remington knew, was dangerous given that he didn’t know the man. But Remington nodded anyway.

“Holding the city in its entirety might be impossible.” Rebreanu’s words held only a hint of an accent.

“That’s not the kind of thinking I need out here,” Remington said. “If we give up any part of this city, we’re going to have to give it all up. So we’re not going to give the Syrians anything.”

Rebreanu nodded stiffly. “Yes, sir.”

Underneath the major’s calm words, though, Remington knew that the man didn’t believe it could be done. “We’re going to make this happen,” Remington said.

“Yes, sir. The secretarygeneral said that you would be a man of conviction and that you’d have high expectations.”

“I do. Allowing the Syrians to entrench themselves in this city means they don’t have to depend on supply lines as much as they currently do. I’m not going to allow that. If they have supply lines, they’re exposed. We’re going to concentrate on holding our position and make them pay the cost for being in an indefensible posture.” Remington stared at the battlefield, across the smoking ruin of the Syrian armored and downed planes. “Put simply, we’re going to outbleed them.”