Уильям Дитц - Battle Hymn

Archer Company had been divided into two platoons, each consisting of three nine-person squads, plus a two-person crew for each of the six Strykers. That added up to sixty-six people plus Mac, Roupe, and Deeds. Would the force be sufficient? Mac thought so. More people would lead to additional complexity and the likelihood of mistakes.

But what if they were outnumbered? We have night-vision gear, Mac reminded herself. And the Mexicans don’t. Plus, we’ll have a Predator drone circling overhead. So less is more. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Mac said. “Let’s take the tour.”

The final inspection was more for the purpose of interacting with the troops, and maintaining morale, than finding flaws. So things went smoothly. After Mac chatted with the members of the first platoon, she moved on to the second platoon. It was led by Lieutenant Ron Okada. And because Captain Roupe was slated to accompany the second platoon, he was present as well.

There wasn’t much light. But what there was had an orange glow. Even allowing for that, Roupe’s countenance had a sickly appearance. Was he ill? Or simply frightened? He certainly had every right to be. Going back to the place where he’d suffered so much wouldn’t be easy.

But Roupe was the only person who knew his way around the prison. And, if something happened to Mac, it would be his duty to take over. Would he execute her plan? Or switch to his own? Mac would never know. Roupe’s salute was perfect. Mac tossed one in return. “Captain… Lieutenant… Are we ready to roll?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Okada said confidently. “The California Girl was running rough, but the issue was resolved.”

“Good,” Mac replied. “I’d like to say hello to the troops.”

The members of the first squad were standing next to their truck, shooting the shit, when Deeds barked, “Atten-hut!”

Mac said, “As you were,” and paused to chat before moving on to the next squad. And so it went until the inspection was complete.

Mac paused for a private word with Roupe. “You know the drill, Alan. Complete the mission should I fall. And one more thing… Watch our six. There’s no reason to believe that Carbone and her people are onto us. But what if the rebs are watching from orbit? And what if they tipped the Angel off? The bastards could be hiding out there, just waiting to roll in behind us.”

“Don’t worry, Major,” Roupe assured her. “We’ll keep a sharp eye out. There’s no way in hell that they’re going to surprise us.”

“Good,” Mac replied. “I’ll see you in Ascensión.”

Roupe produced a jerky nod followed by a second salute.

Mac returned it, thanked Okada, and made her way back toward the head of the column. Deeds was by her side. “Permission to speak freely, ma’am.”

“Of course. Go.”

“Captain Roupe has been through hell. I think it would be a good idea to keep an eye on him.”

Mac turned to look at Deeds. If there was an expression on his face, she couldn’t see it in the murk. The comment seemed to suggest that someone should protect Roupe. But it could also be interpreted to mean that Deeds considered the XO to be unstable. And if that’s what the noncom meant, he was taking a lot on himself. Many officers would have instructed Deeds to back off. But Mac had faith in Deeds and said as much. “I hear you, Sergeant Major… Use your own judgment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Deeds replied. Then he was gone.

As Mac returned to the head of the column, she was wearing her TAC gear minus the helmet, which was hanging from the BETSY ROSS. Mac put it on. Her RTO was a kid named Harmon. She nodded to him. “Tell the company to saddle up. We roll five from now.”

The BETSY ROSSwas in the one slot. The Stryker was equipped with a 105mm gun, and Mac was counting on gunner Alfie Thomas to clear the way if an obstruction appeared.

As Mac made her way through the cargo compartment on her way to the air-guard hatch, she paused to speak with the driver. Her name was Ronda Smith, or Smitty to her peers, and she had an infectious grin. “Hey, Major… You like my whip?”

“I do,” Mac assured her. “Lieutenant Evers says you’re one helluva driver.”

“She got that right,” Smith said proudly. “Don’t you worry none… I’ll get you there.”

“I’m counting on it,” Mac said. “And I’d like to come back, too.”

Smith laughed as Mac turned to climb up into the hatch. The squad was on board by that time, and seated knee to knee in the equivalent of a metal box. Mac’s presence, plus Harmon’s, made the cargo bay even more crowded.

But rank hath privilege, and Mac was free to stick her head up through the hatch and savor the cool air. There was no moon, a high haze was blocking the stars, and the only lights were those that belonged to the other vehicles. They went out one by one. That entailed some risk, of course… But the truck commanders had thermal-imaging gear and could use it to avoid running into each other. Just one of the skills they’d honed while playing capture the flag during the hours of darkness. Even though Harmon was on board, Mac could communicate with the company directly if she chose to. “This is Archer-Six. Watch those intervals… Let’s move out. Over.”

Mac heard the characteristic whine that all Strykers made as the BETSY ROSSgot under way. She took the opportunity to turn her night-vision equipment on. Her surroundings glowed green, but she could see quite well and was grateful for that.

Smith and the other drivers had been studying the route for days, and any one of them could lead the column if necessary. The plan was to drive southeast through the desert, cut across a large farm, and enter Ascensión via a secondary road.

That would theoretically enable the company to catch Carbone by surprise. The biggest problem was the need to separate friend from foe to avoid the possibility of a friendly-fire incident. Fortunately, based on Roupe’s account, the prisoners wore bright orange jumpsuits. That would help, but there would still be room for accidents. Her troops would have to be careful.

It was a smooth ride until the BETSY ROSSwas forced to slow down and waddle through a dry creek bed. But, thanks to the vehicle’s muscular eight-wheel drive, the Stryker was able to lurch up and out of the arroyo without difficulty.

Mac couldn’t see any obstructions as she eyed the countryside ahead. Smith had the ROSSup to thirty miles per hour by then—and that was likely to be the column’s top speed as it traveled south. If so, the company would arrive in Ascensión within the hour.

Off to her right, Mac could see the cluster of lights that represented the tiny town of El Berrendo, Mexico. Soon after they disappeared, Mac spotted a second set of twinkling lights on the right. They marked the location of a sizeable farm, which, when viewed from above, consisted of buildings surrounded by irrigated crop circles.

So far so good. Next up would be the hills that Mac thought of as “Dos Amigos.” The column would pass them on the left as it angled down to Ascensión. And sure enough… Mac spotted the smaller colina a few minutes later. Smith was following a dirt road at that point. It was the type of backcountry track often used by drug smugglers and illegals as they tried to enter the United States. Except that the flow of ilegales had slowed to almost nothing since the beginning of the war.

They had passed the two amigos, and were making good time, when Okada spoke. “This is Archer-Two. Half a dozen vehicles are approaching the column from the west! They were hiding between the hills. I see two gun trucks… The rest of them are dune buggies. Over.”