Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

Before long, the dirt road narrowed to one lane, and the company entered the Bighorn National Forest. An alpine meadow lay to the left, with a lightly treed slope on the right and craggy mountains in the distance.

Eventually, they came to a Y in the road. Huntington was crouched next to Mac. “Stay to the right!” she shouted, and pointed. Mac relayed the message to Castel. And that’s how the next hour was spent. The scout would point the way, and the column would follow along.

Most of the roads weren’t maintained. So there were times when the Strykers had to power through creeks, circle around washouts, and crash through thickets of saplings to proceed. They passed an old log cabin at one point—and a rusty pickup half a mile later. But there was no traffic. And for that, Mac was grateful.

That didn’t mean they were safe from observation, however. Howard was no fool… The ex–Green Beret would have lookouts up high somewhere. Mac’s train of thought was interrupted as the ESV topped a rise, and Huntington raised a fist. “Stop here.”

Mac gave the order, and the Stryker came to a stop. Huntington dropped to the ground, walked a few yards, and pointed at the ground. “Here it is! Just like I told you it would be!”

Mac felt a rising sense of excitement as she lowered herself to the ground and went to join the scout. And sure enough… There they were. Two rusty rails! “The main line used to run south from Buffalo, around the mountains, and up to Sheridan,” Huntington explained. “But the trains stopped running when my great-grandfather’s gold mine played out. And eventually they built Highway 16 over part of the line. We need to follow the old right-of-way for two miles… That’s where we’ll run into the spur that leads to the mine.”

“And the mine is located under the lodge,” Mac added.

“That’s correct,” Huntington agreed. “When the mine closed, my great-grandfather went into the cattle business, did well, and built his home over the mine. So all we have to do is follow the track in and boom ! We win.”

Mac knew it wouldn’t be so simple but smiled anyway. “Okay, let’s get going.”

Once the women were aboard, Castel lowered the ESV’s dozer blade and angled it to the right. One-two’s driver angled his blade the other way. And with the rest of the column tagging along behind, they turned onto the track.

Mac had done her homework and knew that the Strykers could straddle the narrow-gauge tracks with room to spare. And by mowing the brush down, the lead vehicles could clear the way for the vics following behind them.

The ESV shook, and gear rattled as the Stryker bumped over a long succession of railroad ties. But that was the price to be paid if they were going to close in on Howard. The spur was right where Huntington said it would be, and the company turned east. Now they were west of the High Fort and aimed directly at it. “Two miles,” Huntington announced. “Then we’ll enter the tunnel.”

That was the moment when three F-111 fighter-bombers appeared from the south and began to circle. Mac saw them, as did a dozen other people, all of whom tried to report at the same time. “This is Bravo-Six actual,” Mac said. “I see them. Worsky… Get on the horn. Contact the zoomies. Tell them to hold off… There are hostages on the ground. Over.”

“Roger that,” the RTO replied from inside the ESV.

Mac’s mind was racing. She hadn’t requested the fighters… So who sent them? Some REMF at Fort Knox? In retribution for the attack on Fort Carney? Probably.

If so, that was on her since rather than request permission for a raid on the ground, and have her request denied, Mac had chosen to proceed on her own. Shit! What if prisoners died? It would be her fault!

“This is Bravo-Ten,” Worsky said. “The F-111s belong to the rebs! Some guy told me to fuck myself.”

Mac swore as the lead plane completed a wide turn and dived. “Step on it Castel! We need to reach the tunnel and fast!”

The ESV was already making pretty good time given the conditions, but the TC put his foot down. Mac’s teeth rattled as the big tires bumped across ancient railroad ties. “Bravo-Six to all units… Pick up the pace! Stand by to repel aircraft. Fire at will.”

The order to fire was largely meaningless since the only AA capability the Strykers had were the light machine guns mounted on the top of each vic. Mac turned hers toward an incoming plane as rockets flared off its wings and cannon shells ripped through a stand of trees to the north. Mac saw a flash of light out of the corner of her eye and turned to see a Stryker explode. “Keep going!” Lightfoot yelled from his position at the tail end of the column. “Push the wreckage out of the way!”

Mac looked up, fully expecting to see another F-111 coming straight in. But, rather than attack Charlie Company the way she expected them to, the other jets were focused on a target in the distance. She heard a thud, followed by a boom, and saw smoke billow up into the sky. Were the planes dropping bombs on the High Fort? Yes! But why ?

Then it came to her… Maybe someone from Ten Sleep had been able to alert Howard. Or, given his alliance with the Confederacy, maybe the column had been spotted from orbit!

The exact mechanism didn’t matter. What mattered was that unlike the Union and Fort Carney, Howard didn’t give a shit about the High Fort, or the prisoners located there… He was a nomad… Or a renegade playing the part of a nomad. And, rather than surrender his headquarters to the Union, he preferred to destroy the old building. And the Strykers. A victory even the Khan would admire. “There it is!” Huntington exclaimed. “The tunnel!”

Mac turned, saw that the entrance was guarded by a pair of rotting doors, and told Castel to break through them. Then she grabbed Huntington’s arm and pulled the scout toward the hatch. They tumbled into the cargo compartment as the bulldozer blade struck wood. The impact threw Mac into Worsky, and they wound up in a tangle of arms and legs as the Stryker broke through. Once Mac was on her feet, she turned to the hatch. “Don’t go up there,” Huntington warned. “There’s less than a foot of clearance.”

“We lost the remote-weapons station,” Castel added, as the ESV bounced over a chunk of wood. Mac winced. So much for her planning. If the ESV’s primary weapon was gone, others would be lost, too.

Worsky had recovered by then, and Mac took his mike. “Bravo-Six to Charlie-Six. Give me a sitrep. Over.”

There was a pause followed by the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Vic three-four didn’t make it Bravo-Six… They took a direct hit. The rest of the column entered the tunnel.”

Mac felt the ESV come to a sudden stop as she struggled to assimilate the news. At least ten people were dead, including Captain Lightfoot, who’d been riding drag. It took an act of will to keep her voice steady. “Roger that, over. Charlie-Three will use a squad to secure the entrance to the tunnel. All other units will prepare to deploy… Over.”

After returning the mike to Worsky, Mac went forward to speak with Castel. But there was no need. She could see the cave-in on the screen in front of him. “Drop the ramp… I’m going out.”

Mac heard the whine of hydraulics as she made her way toward the rear of the vehicle. Was there enough room to get past the cave-in? If so, she could take the entire company through the gap. If not, they’d have to exit through the west entrance. That would take them back the way they’d come—and it would take forever to find a way up over the ridge.

Mac made her way down the ramp, with Worsky and Huntington right behind her. As soon as she cleared the ESV, Mac turned east. There was very little room between the Stryker and the wall. That meant the officer had to turn sideways in order to get through.