Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

The Union Air Force had bombed the city and for good reason. The rebs had been using Memphis as a hub for the distribution of troops and supplies. Eventually, elements of General Hern’s division managed to fight their way down Interstate 40 and, as they entered Memphis, the rebel air force bombed the city again . And the results were horrendous.

Mac was standing in the ROLLER SKATE’s forward air hatch. She looked back to make sure that the rest of Alpha Company’s vics were clear of the barge. They were… And Quick was riding drag so that the force would still have leadership even if she was wounded or killed.

The SKATEbounced through a crater as Mac turned her eyes forward. The Stryker’s TC was a very competent sergeant named Hassan… And since he had all of the latest recon imagery at his disposal, Mac knew Hassan would be able to find his way to Highway 61, which would take them south to the junction with 49. They would turn west at that point. And, if her suspicions were correct, they would encounter Confederate forces just short of the Helena Bridge. The same bridge the rebs had blown.

What would happen next was anyone’s guess. But Mac hoped to not only take the enemy by surprise, but to chase them away, so that Colonel Russell’s people could work on clearing the channel below. Barring problems, the seventy-mile trip would take about an hour and a half. During that time, Alpha Company would be vulnerable to an air attack, and knowing that, Mac kept scanning the sky. Yes, she could call for air support immediately, but that could signal the company’s presence.

The question hung over Mac as the convoy cleared the central business district and passed through the suburbs south of town. The highway was littered with what looked like the remains of a rebel convoy. It had been destroyed from the air and served as an excellent example of what could happen to her Strykers if an enemy A-10 happened along. The need to thread their way between the wrecks set Mac’s nerves on edge, as any of the burned-out vehicles could conceal an IED.

Farther on, the convoy passed through Walls, Mississippi, and a place called Tunica Resorts. The small town was home to some large casinos that, strangely enough, were open for business! Mac decided that the war was a strange affair indeed.

Her thoughts were jerked back into the present when a bullet smacked into the ROLLER SKATE’s hull, and the distant crack of a rifle shot was heard. Mac spoke as she brought the M249 machine gun around to point forward. “This is Rocker-Six… We’re taking fire. Over.”

“You got that right,” a male voice said. “I see a head up on the overpass!”

“This is Rocker-Seven,” Sergeant Major Price said. “You will use the correct radio procedure, or I will rip your head off and piss down your throat. Over.”

Mac couldn’t help but grin as ROLLER SKATE’s gunner fired her .50. But as the heavy weapon blew chunks of concrete out of the overpass, a question niggled at her mind. One shot… Only one shot. Where was the automatic-weapons fire? Where were the shoulder-launched rockets? She fired the M249 until the Stryker rolled under the overpass, and Price spoke. “This is Seven. Cease firing. The target is down. Over.”

Mac released her grip on the LMG. “The target is down.” What target? A reb sniper? On his own for some reason? Or a patriotic sixteen-year-old with a hunting rifle? She feared the latter. Damn… It seemed like the bad things would never end.

But it wasn’t until the column made the turn onto 49 west that things got really bad. Because there, crouched a quarter of a mile away, was a Confederate LAV-AT missile carrier! The eight-wheeled vehicle was very similar in size and shape to the ROLLER SKATE, except that it was armed with two roof-mounted missile launchers. Either one of them could destroy a tank, never mind a Stryker.

For one brief moment, Mac thought the enemy vehicle commander might assume that he or she was looking at some friendlies, but no such luck. In the blink of an eye, the Confederate gunner sent a wire-guided missile down the highway. Mac waited to die.

NEAR HELENA, MISSISSIPPI

Mac saw the blur out of the corner of her eye, heard the explosion, and felt a sharp pain as something sliced through the flesh on her left arm. The missile hadn’t struck the SKATE… So which vic did it hit? Focus, the voice told her. Get in close.

Mac knew what the voice was referring to, and yelled into the mike. “Step on it!” And then, like a cavalry officer from the first civil war: “Charge!”

Hassan put his boot to the floor, and Mac was forced to brace herself as the Stryker took off. Two hundred and fourteen feet. That was the minimum range for a TOW missile, and once the SKATEgot in close, the LAV-AT would be forced to rely on a single 7.62mm machine gun for defense.

The SKATE’s .50 was pounding away by then, and Mac was firing her LMG even though she knew the slugs couldn’t penetrate the tank killer’s forward armor. But she had to do something , and operating the weapon helped.

Meanwhile, the LAV-AT’s commander was faced with a difficult choice. He or she could order the driver to throw the engine into reverse or launch missile two. Because the vehicle couldn’t do both at the same time.

Mac saw a puff of smoke as the second weapon came her way. But it was high… And passed over her head. Why? TOW missiles were controlled by a joystick. Maybe the gunner’s hand was shaking… Or maybe anything. The important thing was that the missile missed.

And as the SKATErolled past the LAV-AT, the Stryker’s remotely operated weapons system swiveled around to stay on target. It was only a matter of seconds before the .50 caliber slugs found thinner armor. Then came a single bang, followed by a BOOM, as the tank killer exploded.

There was no time in which to celebrate. Mac could see troops up ahead. They were running every which way in response to the unexpected attack. But, because of the gap in the middle of the bridge, they had no way to escape.

Beyond them… on the other side of the span, Mac could see more Confederate troops. But they were facing the other way as Captain Overman and his Strykers attacked the other end of the bridge. Mac hoped that the rebs directly in front of her would surrender… And would accept if they offered to do so.

The Confederate soldiers weren’t ready to quit. An M40 recoilless rifle was mounted on the back of a pickup truck. It had been aimed at the river. But the reb behind the wheel was turning the vehicle in order to aim the gun at the Marauders. It was too late. The POPEYEfired its 40mm grenade launcher, and the truck was consumed by a series of overlapping explosions.

Hassan braked as Mac made use of the PA system. Her voice boomed across the litter-strewn surface of the bridge. “Cease firing! Lay your weapons down! Place your hands on your heads!”

Roughly twenty rebs were still standing, with nowhere to go. Slowly, reluctantly, they did as they were told. Mac was thankful. There had been enough killing.