William Weber - Turning the Tide

“Tell me you know where he is,” John said, slamming the interrogation room door behind him.

Ray sat up straight. The man’s face was flat, as though he no longer felt the need to lay on the charm.

“Of course I know,” he replied, his cuffs rattling against the arms of the chair. “His unit’s been moved to Jamestown.”

John’s brow furrowed. “Tennessee?”

Ray nodded. “That’s right. All you need to do is head through the Scott State Forest. But I’m not the only one who knows, John. You and your Rough Riders have become something of an itch in the Communists’ backside. A Chinese special ops team’s been tasked with taking you and your men out.”

“The ambush near Lenoir City,” John said. “That was them.”

“They wanted me to handle it myself, but I told them getting close to you wasn’t so easy.”

“You lied.”

Ray frowned. “You may not think much of me, John, but I also have my limits. Although I’ll admit those limits didn’t involve withholding from the Chinese that Brandon was your son.”

“My son? You told them that? But it isn’t true.”

“Sure it is, John. Diane might not have given birth to the kid, but you’ve treated him like a son since I’ve known you. Gregory felt it too. Why do you think he was so desperate to make you proud of him?”

“I don’t need a lecture from you.”

“No, you don’t. And mainly because you don’t have time. That special ops team is under a man named Zhang Shuhong, one of the most ruthless commanders they’ve got. He and his team are heading for Jamestown as we speak. I handed you to them on a silver platter and they failed, so now it seems the plan is to lure you out into the open by threatening the life of someone you love.”

“Why are you telling me this? So you can spring another trap?”

“No, John. To show you that I can be trusted.”

As soon as John left he was intercepted by General Brooks.

“The new battle plan is a go, Colonel Mack.”

“You pitched it to General Dempsey?”

“I did and he loved it. Although I decided to follow your advice and claim the idea as my own.

John grinned.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Isn’t there always.”

“All available forces in Oneida have been redeployed to a town near the Appalachians called Colonial Heights. It overlooks the junction of Interstates 81 and 26. And it’ll be our job to ensure the trap we’ve set stays closed. That means stopping any Chinese troops attempting to flee. So start getting your forces together. Whatever militia Oneida can spare will need to head out by first light.” General Brooks collected the files on the desk. “I heard your conversation with Gruber, John. I’m sorry, but there isn’t time for a mission to save Brandon right now.”

“But General—”

“That’s an order.”

John gritted his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

By the time John left the jail, the crowd out front had largely dissipated. Already preparations to move out were underway as Humvees sped through the cleared back streets, some towing 155mm artillery pieces.

Back at the radio room, he caught up with Henry.

“I need you to reach out to your contacts in the resistance,” John told him. “Something big is going down. I want ambushes set up along every major highway and interstate heading east. At some point within the next twenty-four hours the Chinese are gonna try to send reinforcements to the front. We can’t allow that to happen.”

Henry’s eyes were wide.

John turned to leave.

“Where are you going?”

John paused without looking back. “To save one of my sons.”

Not long after, John secretly set out with the rest of Alpha squad, heading for Jamestown. In the earliest days of the struggle, the town had been one of the first liberated from the Russian fifth columnists sent to take over. Then the Chinese had showed up, causing many of the folks to flee, heading through the Scott State Forest to join those already in Oneida.

For once, John’s plan was simple. He didn’t have one. The group of eight men—Heller would have made nine—made quick progress on horseback through the narrow forest trails. He supposed for disobeying a direct order, he risked court martial and maybe even execution, but it was a risk worth taking. The men accompanying him didn’t know any better, but that would only help to solidify their innocence.

A sparse collection of small homes on big plots of land signaled the outskirts of Jamestown. These would help to provide some cover for John and his men as they drew closer to the military barracks located further into town. With little to no intel, they would need to hunker down somewhere with a good vantage point and observe the comings and goings.

An abandoned barn nearby offered as good a place as any to keep the horses. The rest of their weapons, along with the M30 mortar and the M249 wielded by Benson, would be carried on their backs the old-fashioned way. As had become the norm, Reese split from the group, heading south to do some reconnaissance, armed this time with the suppressed Remington 700.

The truth of the matter was, they hadn’t come here with the sole aim of freeing Brandon. He was only one of several Americans press-ganged into serving in the Chinese army. Chances were good that each of them had been told if they failed to perform, their family members back at camp would be executed on the spot. As the special forces commander seemed to understand well enough, if you wanted to manipulate the man, your best bet was to threaten his family.

The remaining seven men from Alpha broke into two teams. One team of three—John, Moss and Benson—would make their way onto a nearby rooftop and try to identify which building was being used as the barracks. The final team of four would carry the mortar and head north.

Moss pointed to a cell tower. “If you can handle heights, that’s probably our best bet.”

They made their way up the tower, leaving Benson and his M249 at the base pulling security. Near the top, John felt a strong wind trying to push him over. He held on with one hand and brought his binoculars up with the other.

“See anything, boss?”

“Not a whole lot,” John said. “Town seems emp… wait a minute. I got a group of four soldiers heading down the main thoroughfare.”

“A patrol?”

“Looks that way.”

“At least now we know someone’s home.” John paused. “Two, maybe three Caucasians. But it’s hard to be sure.”

“Colonel, come in,” Reese squawked over the walkie.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve got eyes on a Wal-Mart west of your position with lots of activity. I’ve counted at least two dozen soldiers coming and going.”

“Are they carrying anything?” John asked.

“Only their weapons. I’d say a number of ’em are Americans too, over.”

“So you think that’s the barracks?” Moss asked.

“That’s my guess, and probably the local headquarters too.”

John spoke into the walkie. “Reese, stay put and keep your eyes on that front entrance.”

“Hold up, Colonel,” Reese said at once. “Eight to ten spooks in black fatigues just entered the store.”

“Same boys who hit us near Knoxville?”

“Hard to say,” Reese replied. “But they sure are dressed the same.”

“Okay, keep eyes on. We’re moving around front to support you.”

John then ordered two members of the team to the north to redeploy atop a hill about three hundred yards from the store. The other two were to cover the exit around back. That way anyone coming or going would be under fire.

“Any ideas?” Reese asked once they’d climbed down and redeployed. One by one, his men radioed that they were in position.