Nathan Jones - Determination

He’d even risked driving the truck, which sported numerous bullet holes after the blockhead’s attack in the night and had needed to have its headlights replaced, far enough down the canyon to turn the heavy machine gun on the emplacement guarding the canyon’s mouth. It hadn’t been for long, and from such an extreme range that accurately aiming was practically impossible, but even if it hadn’t done much damage he hoped it’d spooked the enemy.

The attacks had done their damage, in small ways, but the point of them had been to make the enemy think that Lewis didn’t have anything bigger planned. Which hopefully meant they wouldn’t be expecting anything the morning of the fifth day, when he took his people through the mountains north of Aspen Hill headed for Helper, to take out Highway 6 in the canyon just north of the town.

That had been the plan, at least. Unfortunately in spite of their somewhat asinine nickname the blockheads weren’t idiots, and although these mountains didn’t have any particular strategic value the enemy did hold them, so they were patrolling them.

Lewis and his volunteers were hidden halfway down a slope, watching with binoculars as a patrol of twenty men in camo bandannas passed single file along a narrow trail the next slope over.

“What are they even guarding?” Uncle George whispered. “We’re miles away from anything.”

Jane, crouched beside Lewis with her own binoculars out, shrugged. “They’ve got plenty of people, and I’d say our side’s proven we can be a nuisance if we’ve got some mountains to work with. Maybe they’re holding this area just to keep it from us.”

“Not to mention Highway 6 is pretty much the only route connecting Carbon County and everything north of us,” Lewis added. “They can’t afford to take even the risk that someone might get close enough to knock it out.”

His dad sighed. “I warned you going for 6 would be more than we could manage. Should we head home?”

Lewis hesitated. That patrol was a tempting target, if they couldn’t hit anything bigger. But at the same time they were deep in enemy territory, and there was no telling if there were blockheads in a position to cut off their escape if they revealed themselves.

“I’d like to hit that patrol,” Jane said. Lewis opened his mouth to raise the same objections he’d just been thinking, but his wife caught his eye. “Maybe just the two of us, after the rest of you have made it safely back to our territory.”

That seemed a bit more doable. Lewis nodded. “You guys okay with that?”

A few of the volunteers looked disgruntled. “Why do you get to have all the fun?” Martin asked.

“Because for all we know there might be a hundred blockheads on the mountainsides behind us,” Lewis replied. “No offense, but I’m not about to order anyone else through that gauntlet if we draw attention to ourselves here.”

That took a bit of the wind out of the man’s sails. Tam nodded in agreement. “It’s easier for two people to sneak out than fourteen. Besides, I’m not in the mood to stick my neck out that far.”

“I’m not sure you two should be in the mood to do that, either,” his dad said, giving them a worried look. Uncle George nodded in agreement.

“Well hopefully you’ll keep your eyes open on the way back, give us a bit of warning if there are actually enemies out there,” Lewis said. His dad’s eyes tightened at his light tone, and Lewis gave him a reassuring look. “We’ve done something like this before.”

“Never assume a plan will go smoothly just because it has before,” Uncle George warned. “That’s how you get killed. What happened to Trev’s squad should be a lesson for all of us.”

Lewis glanced at Jane, who looked back impassively. “Scout the way back,” he said quietly in a firm voice. “Radio in once you’re a safe distance away.”

His dad and uncle exchanged looks of mingled concern and irritation, then his dad sighed. “Be careful, son.”

The volunteers collected the missile launcher and two missiles they’d brought with them, in the faint hope they’d have a chance to hit at the highway, and slipped back up the slope, leaving Lewis and his wife alone. He motioned for Jane to take the lead, and she eased her way along a route that would shadow the course of the blockheads on the opposite slope.

The blockheads were good, he had to give them that. Although they obviously weren’t expecting company and seemed to prefer speed to stealth on their patrol, they moved with the sort of fluid grace that suggested they could disappear into the underbrush in a moment if they sensed a threat.

And they were vigilant for that threat: those in front watched ahead, those in back behind, and those in the middle to the sides. But in spite of that each and every man among them was aware of his surroundings, ready to pick up the slack if his companions failed. Lewis and Jane were no slouches when it came to tracking without being seen, and they were over a thousand yards away, but even so he felt his skin crawl every time one of those bandanna-covered faces turned his way.

He was willing to entertain the idea that going after these guys was a mistake.

Over the next couple hours they trailed the blockheads north along their respective opposite mountainsides, across a valley, and up another perpendicular slope to a ridge. Near the top they finally got word from the others, although it wasn’t very reliable; even though they were close to the highest point in sight, and presumably so was his dad, the transmission was so garbled he only caught one word in five.

It took almost ten minutes to confirm the simple message that the volunteers had reached safety, and as far as they could tell the way back was clear. Lewis signed off and glanced at Jane, crouched behind a tree ahead. His wife motioned, and he eased over to join her.

The enemy was slowing down, looking as if they were about ready to break for lunch. That was a good time to hit them, since their guard might be down while eating. Jane’s sky blue eyes reflected the same realization, and she nodded and started forward again.

It was slow going catching up to a wary enemy, and even though the blockheads did stop about ten minutes later, they were almost finished with their meal before Lewis was satisfied that he and his wife were close enough to effectively target them. Hopefully while still being far enough away to make a clean escape.

They found good spots to mount their weapons and began getting ready, part of those preparations being planning which route they’d take to get away. “Remember,” Lewis said quietly, watching the way the trees moved around the blockheads to assess windage. “We take a few out, just enough to spook them and make them realize these mountains aren’t theirs. Then we’re gone.”

“Preaching to the choir, honey,” Jane murmured, cheek hovering above the stock of her .308. “I’m ready.”

He took a breath, sighting on his target and willing his arms, his body, and the rifle to be still. Halfway through releasing the breath he slowly squeezed the trigger.

The report of Jane’s rifle sounded only moments after his, like an echo across the wooded hills, and his target and the man next to him both dropped. Lewis was already shifting to another target, pulling the trigger just short of the break in preparation.

He couldn’t afford to be as accurate this time, but he couldn’t afford to miss either. A hasty shot on a surprised target that was still sitting motionless beat a well aimed shot against one scrambling for cover. His wavering crosshairs settled on the next soldier down the line, weaved as he steadied his aim, and he timed it so his rifle went still centered on the target just as he squeezed the trigger again.