Richard Stephenson - Collapse

“Roger that, sir.” First Sergeant Bankhead quickly followed orders and assembled a team of four men with M32 grenade launchers. Each weapon could fire six forty-millimeter grenade rounds.

“Awaiting your orders, sir,” said the team leader.

Captain Butler had to decide on a target. The door and windows would most likely deflect anything they had. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” Captain Butler said, tapping the helmet of the soldier in front of him. “Fire one round at left side door.”

The soldier took aim and fired one round at the door leading into Howard’s kitchen. Nothing happened. First Sergeant Bankhead was watching the door with binoculars.

“Top?”

“Sir, the round hit the force field and ricocheted.”

“Just as I thought. I want all four of you men to fire at the wall just to the left of that same door. On my mark,” the four men quickly took aim, “Fire!”

Nothing happened.

“Top?”

“Sir, I didn’t see anything hit the wall.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Men, open your breaches for inspection.” The four men quickly followed orders. Captain Butler nodded to his top NCO, who took each weapon and conducted an inspection. He dropped the spent shells and examined the remaining rounds.

“Sir, the weapons are all working perfectly with live ammunition.”

“Curious.” Captain Butler paced back and forth and came up with a theory. “Men, prepare to fire at the same target on my mark. Top, don’t look at the target, I want you to watch the sentries on the roof for any activity.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Ready, fire!”

The same thing happened as before; each man fired a round at the wall just to the left of the door. Again, none of the rounds hit the target. Captain Butler looked to First Sergeant Bankhead for a report.

“Captain, those damn sentries up there are doing something, I can’t tell what. They swiveled around and moved rapidly from side the side.”

“Did they fire anything?”

“No, sir, not that I could tell. They definitely did something to stop the rounds.”

“Men, reload your weapons.” The four soldiers quickly took rounds from their vests and loaded their weapons to capacity. “On my mark, I want you to fire all of your rounds at random targets along the wall; do not hit the same target twice. Ready, fire!”

The four soldiers unloaded their weapons at the back wall of Beck Estates. A total of twenty-four rounds were fired, not one of them hit the wall.

“This mother fucker is pissing me off now,” Captain Butler said with much disdain. “You men are dismissed.”

“Time to call in the big guns, sir.”

“Top, you are absolutely correct. Command has been kind enough to dispatch a fighter jet for us to do with as we please. We have to be careful though; the big man himself wants the estate intact with as little damage as possible.”

“You mean General Green?”

“No, First Sergeant, I’m referring to our Commander-in-Chief.”

“I’ll be damned, sir. I had no idea.”

Captain Butler smiled and placed his hand on the shoulder of his top NCO. “Top, you and I do this thing right, good things are in store for us, I assure you.”

“Outstanding, sir. I’m proud to be in this with you.”

“Matt, the feeling is the same. Now, let’s get that crazy old coot out of his house. Load everybody up and fall back a half mile to the north. I’ll wait here for you. When the last man is out, drive my truck around and pick me up.”

“I wish I could see the look on the man’s face when he thinks we’re giving up and leaving.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Top.”

Captain Butler stood perfectly still and surveyed his target. If military history had taught him one thing, it was that every stronghold eventually fell to invading forces. It was only a matter of time, determination, and resourcefulness. Every castle, every fort, every bunker was eventually breached. If it took hours, days, or even years, if one man wanted to take something from another man, it could be done. Butler could hear his truck coming around to pick him up. First Sergeant Bankhead pulled up right next to the captain so all he had to do was open the door and sit down.

“I’ll see you soon, Howard.” Captain Jackson Butler waved towards the mansion, climbed aboard his truck and left.

Howard Beck was sitting at the control panel in his secure sub-basement having the time of his life. He was playing a real-life video game with actual, real-life soldiers with guns. Howard couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would actually be able to test the defenses of his estate. He gave Hal instructions in the game of chess they were playing with Captain Butler. When Butler would send in a few pawns, Howard defeated them with ease. He laughed and cheered when he sent the captain himself running as fast as he could across the north lawn to escape the rubber bullets ricocheting around him. Howard had purposely fired a round straight at the captain’s ass. Butler fell to the ground and quickly got up, limping away with both hands on his bottom like a little boy who’d just been spanked.

“Hal, let’s hope the good captain gets the message. In case he doesn’t, fire a head shot at anyone approaching the back wall.”

“Sir, I must inform you that such a move could result in serious injury, possibly death.”

“I’m aware of that, Old Man, thank you.”

“I understand, sir.”

Howard watched as a wave of a dozen soldiers took off at a full sprint toward the back door of his home.

“Take your time, Old Man. I want a few of them to make it to the back door.”

“Yes, sir.”

Howard watched the monitor as the soldiers slowly dropped to the ground. Every one of them remained motionless. “Life signs?”

“They are all alive, sir. Two of them suffered severe trauma to an eye.”

“To hell with ‘em, they’ll live. Maybe Butler will get the message and leave.”

Howard looked at the monitor and saw that three soldiers had made it to the back door, out of the field of vision of the sentries. “Good job, grunts! Oh my! Whatever are you going to do now? Maybe if you knock on the door and mind your manners I’ll just open up and let you in? Oh no! Don’t do that! Might sting a little!”

The three soldiers looked at each other in confusion. They studied the back door leading into the kitchen. One of them tossed a rock at the force field. The field shimmered and deflected the rock with ease. They looked at each other, silently arguing over which one of them was going to touch the force field.

“Come on now! One of you has to do it! Draw straws or something, hurry up!”

The argument ceased and the unlucky loser walked over to the force field. He raised his rifle and tapped the barrel to the field only to be met with a severe shock. He dropped his rifle to the ground and danced wildly around, flapping his hands in pain.

“Told you not to do that!” Howard laughed and sat back in his chair, quite proud of himself. “It’s okay little boys, run away now. Make sure to get your friends on your way out. “Hal, if you would be kind enough to allow them to leave and let them collect their unlucky friends from the battlefield.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Well, Captain, what do you have in store for me this time?” Howard studied the monitor and could see Captain Butler and First Sergeant Bankhead deep in discussion. Bankhead quickly ran over to a group of soldiers and returned with four men carrying very large guns. “Hal, what are those guns? What do they do?”

“Sir, they are M-32 grenade launchers capable of firing six forty millimeter grenade rounds in revolver fashion.”