Уильям Дитц - Battle Hymn

Six vehicles coming in fast… It was a no-brainer. One might represent a farmer. Maybe two. But six ? Hell, no. Mac felt a sense of apprehension followed by fear. Carbone knew they were coming. The how could wait. “This is Archer-Six actual,” Mac replied. “The second platoon will turn west and engage. The first platoon will form a line abreast and prepare to deal with an attack from the south.”

The attack from the south might or might not occur, but Mac planned to be ready in case more vehicles were streaming north from Ascensión. Mac turned back in time to see flashes of light as the gangbangers opened fire, and Okada’s platoon turned to face them.

It was no match. The CALIFORNIA GIRLwas equipped with a 105mm gun. It produced a loud boom. Something exploded, and as it did, flames lit the surrounding desert.

In the meantime, the UNCLE SAMand the MOLLY WONKERwere firing as well. The entire engagement lasted no more than three minutes. Okada’s report said it all. “This is Two… All enemy vehicles destroyed. Casualties, zero.”

That was good… As was the fact that no one had attacked from the south. But the overall situation was bad. Very bad indeed. Mac could turn back, which would make sense given the circumstances, or continue on. In spite of the fact that the assholes knew the Union soldiers were coming. Mac was weighing her alternatives as Roupe spoke. “Archer-Five to Six. Should the second platoon turn around? And lead the way back to the base? Over.”

It was a perfectly reasonable if somewhat leading question, and left no doubt as to what Mac’s XO wanted her to do. And why was that? Mac would have expected the ex-POW to be super gung ho. But there was the possibility of PTSD to consider. Perhaps Roupe was maxed out.

Suddenly, and in spite of Roupe’s expressed preference, Mac made her decision. “This is Archer-Six actual. The second platoon will fall in behind the first. The fact that the enemy didn’t attack in force means they believe that we’ll turn back. And if they believe that, then imagine their surprise when we knock on the door! Let’s roll. Over.” Mac heard the sound of cheering from the troops below and grinned.

Now that the decision was made, and the column was under way again, doubts began to surface. Did Carbone think the company would turn back? Or was the Angel of Death’s failure to throw more resources into the attack part of a clever trick? A way to draw the norteamericanos in? If so, Mac was about to lead her people into a trap. That possibility filled her with dread. Don’t panic, Mac told herself, as the Stryker hit a rough spot. Think. Mac looked up into the sky. She couldn’t see the drone but knew the drone was there. And it was carrying two Hellfire missiles. That could even things up.

Mac’s radio might or might not reach the base. So she ducked down into the cramped cargo compartment and looked at Harmon. “I need to speak with Colonel McKinney… Get him on the horn.”

Harmon nodded. And the other soldiers got to listen in as Mac spoke with McKinney. “They know we’re coming, sir. So let’s give them a big dose of shock and awe. The bad guys live in the east wing of the prison. Let’s feed them a Hellfire missile. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and kill Carbone! But even if we don’t, we’ll grease some of her gang members and mix things up. Over.”

“I like it,” McKinney replied. “But what if some POWs are in the east wing for interrogation? Or to mop floors?”

“It’s a risk,” Mac admitted. “But what about our troops? We need to give them an edge. And the missile strike would do that.”

There was a period of silence while McKinney considered it. And when he spoke, the soldiers sitting around Mac could hear him. “We’ll be in some deep shit if this goes wrong, Major… But if I were sitting in one of those cells, I’d say, ‘Go for it.’”

Sergeant Kris Riker nodded. “Damned straight.”

Her troops produced a loud “Hooah,” which caused Mac to smile. “Roger that, sir… We’re about fifteen minutes out. I recommend that you wait ten, fire one Hellfire, and keep the other in reserve.”

“Will do,” McKinney promised. “Keep me informed. Over.”

Mac gave the mike to Harmon and was about to return to her perch when Riker spoke. She had eight years in, and a no-nonsense attitude. “The colonel was right, Major… And so were you.”

Mac forced a smile. “Thanks, Sergeant… Please leave some gangbangers for the second platoon. They’ll get all pissy if you don’t.”

That got the predictable laugh, and Mac felt guilty as she stuck her head up through the hatch. They trusted her, but should they? Especially since she didn’t trust herself.

The lights of Ascensión were visible at that point. And the glow was so bright that Mac was able to turn her night-vision gear off. Would Carbone attempt to stop them at the city limits? Or was she prepared to defend the prison?

Mac was scanning the area ahead, looking for any indication of a roadblock, when a flash of light strobed the city. The boom was like an afterthought. The Hellfire! That’ll give them something to think about, Mac thought to herself. But what if there had been a mistake? What if the missile struck the west wing instead of the east wing? What if a hundred POWs were dead?

Such fears continued to plague Mac as the BETSY ROSSentered town, left the dirt road for a paved street, and took a right turn. That was when Mac saw the police roadblock and realized what she should have known from the beginning. The policía were on the Angel’s payroll and had orders to stop the column.

The cops were hiding behind a couple of black-and-whites, and they scattered as the BETSY ROSSbore down on them. The Stryker was surrounded by a so-called birdcage, which was supposed to protect the vic from RPGs (rocket-propelled grenades). And when the slat armor struck one of the cop cars, it sent the vehicle spinning away. Mac heard Smith’s war cry over the intercom and was glad the cops were okay. The mission was to rescue POWs rather than kill policemen.

Flames lit the area ahead, and because most of the buildings were no more than two stories high, Mac could see the structure that was on fire. And it was the prison. A sudden explosion sent debris upwards, and the resulting boom rolled across the city. There goes Carbone’s ammo supply, Mac thought to herself. We lucked out.

Or so it seemed until gunfire converged on the column from every direction. Most of it was small-caliber stuff that rattled and pinged as slugs flattened themselves against the truck’s armor. But it quickly became apparent that the gangbangers had some fifties, too… And rocket launchers. RPGs began to explode against slat armor.

Mac’s first thought was to get on her LMG and fire back. But the volume of incoming fire was too heavy, and she was forced to drop into the compartment below. Sergeant Riker’s soldiers could hear the rounds pounding the hull and knew they would have to leave the comparative safety of the Stryker soon. Their faces were grim. Mac smiled at them. “Hey there… I’m hungry. Does anyone have a candy bar?”

All of them smiled as the BETSY ROSScame to a stop, and gunner Alfie Thomas went to work. The truck lurched as the 105mm gun fired. “That’s one,” Thomas said. And Mac heard servos whine as the cannon began to traverse.

“Here,” a private said as he gave Mac a chocolate bar. They heard a thump and felt the recoil as Thomas fired again.

“Thanks,” Mac said. “I hope you don’t mind waiting while we tidy up.” That produced the predictable laugh—and Mac began to chew the candy bar as she listened to the radio traffic.