Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation channel snapped to black. “That’s impossible,” McGowan said contemptuously. “You’re trying to trick me.”

“Nope,” Sloan replied. “CBC is off the air… The SRC network will go down an hour from now—and the CTV network will go dark an hour after that. Though the Confederates took control of our country’s GPS satellites early on, they didn’t get everything, and that includes the killer satellites that were developed to wage war on China and Russia.

“So, unless you apologize and withdraw, we will not only kill all of the satellites that you rely on, we’ll cut your transatlantic and transpacific telephone cables, too.”

McGowan’s cell phone was in his coat pocket. It began to chime. “Uh-oh,” Sloan said. “I think someone in Ottawa is watching CBC.”

McGowan looked up at the CBC monitor. It wasn’t black anymore. A shot of a wind-whipped American flag filled the screen. And when Sloan aimed his remote at the TV, and pressed the MUTE button, the sound came on. McGowan’s face turned a deathly shade of white as the strains of “America the Beautiful” were heard. “Secretary Henderson will see you out,” Sloan said. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.”

CASPER, WYOMING

The steel gates rumbled as they parted to let Alpha Company leave Fort Carney. A Humvee led the way, with the Stars and Stripes flying and Lieutenant Colonel Crowley riding shotgun. The name BETTY SUEhad been stenciled onto both sides of the vehicle. But most of the enlisted soldiers called it the “BM,” or bullet magnet, because any fool could tell that it was a staff car. And nine times out of ten, the person assigned to drive it had done something to get on the sergeant major’s shit list. Nine Strykers followed. Each carried a squad of infantry.

Mac and her company departed next. Bravo Company was almost identical to Alpha Company although Mac preferred to ride in a Stryker rather than a Humvee.

That left the men and women of Charlie Company and Crowley’s headquarters company to hold the fort, and that was important. Because if the fort were undermanned, Howard might very well attack.

The plan called for Crowley to take Alpha Company west, then north, to the tiny town of Arminto. It had originally been home to a handful of people. Then a band of convicts led by a brute named Cory Burns broke out of the state pen in Rawlins. They were in the process of laying waste to the surrounding area when a combined force of Shoshone and Arapahos drove them out. The gang arrived in Arminto shortly thereafter, with a convoy of tractor-trailer rigs, a wild assortment of RVs, and a dozen rat rods.

In less than a week, Arminto was transformed from ghost town to a miniature sin city, complete with a whorehouse, a busy saloon, and a store where their loot could be purchased at bargain prices. Sometimes by the very people from whom it had been stolen.

Of course, that was small-time to a man like Howard, who sent a message to Burns. It was written on a piece of paper that had been nailed to a man’s forehead. “This could be you. Join the horde or die. Yours truly, Robert Howard.”

Burns hurried to accept the invitation and had been paying a 10 percent “tithe” to Howard ever since. And that’s why Crowley was going to level Arminto.

In the meantime, Mac was being sent north and east to show the flag and keep Howard off balance, which was fine with Mac. The trip would give her a chance to get the lay of the land and assess what her company was capable of. Mac felt the wind buffet her face as she led them onto 87 eastbound. She was standing in the Stryker’s forward air-guard hatch with her feet planted on the bench seat below. Her jacket was zipped, and she was wearing three layers of clothing. Unfortunately, the cold air still managed to find its way in and make her shiver.

The land on both sides of the highway was flat and arid, which made it perfect for cavalry. That gave Mac an idea… Rather than wait for the 59 north turnoff and follow the highway north as planned, she threw Perkins a curve. “This is Bravo-Six. Bravo-Five is going to take us to the town of Wright by traveling cross-country. One-one will fall back, and three-one will take point. Over.”

If Perkins was surprised or concerned about his ability to follow Mac’s orders, there was no trace of it in his voice. “This is Five. Roger that… Moving up. Over.”

So far so good, Mac thought to herself, as one-one pulled out of the column and let the rest of the trucks pass. Her impressions had been positive so far. The Southerners had been regular army or reservists prior to the war and were technically proficient. They were also polite and almost unfailingly cheerful.

But those characteristics weren’t enough to conceal the dissatisfaction that was eroding the unit’s morale. In spite of all they had sacrificed to fight for the North, the Union Army didn’t trust them. That rankled.

With three-one in the lead and one-one in the nine slot, Perkins led the company off the north side of the highway. Mac listened approvingly as her XO ordered their UAV pilot to launch the company’s RQ-11 Raven. The drone was equipped with color cameras and an infrared night-vision camera. Under prewar conditions, the tiny aircraft could use GPS waypoint navigation. But the rebs controlled the GPS system, so Staff Sergeant Maureen “Mo” Henry would have to “fly” the Raven while bouncing around in a Humvee.

Still, thanks to the UAV, Perkins would be able to eyeball what lay ahead. Because even though the terrain was mostly flat—there were plenty of dips, riverbeds, and gullies in which the enemy could be hiding. What followed was an often jarring ride as the trucks waddled over boulders, lurched up out of ravines, and sprayed loose gravel at the vehicles behind them. Mac felt sorry for the soldiers down in the cargo bay and hoped they were strapped in.

It was interesting to watch Perkins solve problems. His first decision was to increase the intervals that separated the vics so each Stryker had more room in which to maneuver. But as the space between the trucks increased, the column started to lose cohesion. That raised the possibility that attackers could cut the company in two.

Perkins solved that problem by creating two columns traveling side by side. That meant they could still support each other and laager up if that became necessary. Mac approved. Perkins knew his shit. A female voice came through her headset. “Bravo-Twelve to Bravo-Five. I see a flat area up ahead. It looks like an airstrip. Over.”

Mac consulted her map and couldn’t see any indication of an airfield. She spoke into her mike. “This is Six… Let’s pull up. Keep your heads on a swivel. Over.”

Mac heard a series of double clicks as she dropped down into the cargo bay. The air was thick with the stench of vomit. “Private Ray barfed into his brain bucket,” Sergeant Fisk explained. “Can we drop the ramp and air the bay out?”

“Absolutely,” Mac responded. “But let’s stay ready to roll.”

Fisk nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mac turned to look at the forward-mounted drone monitor. The Raven was circling an area so flat, and so clear of obstructions, that it didn’t look natural. In fact, as Mac looked more closely, she saw the mounds of debris that bordered both sides of the runway. “This is Six,” she said. “I’m taking Bravo-One-One and his squad forward to take a look. Five will assume command. This would be a good time for a bio break. Over.”

As Mac turned toward the ramp, she heard Perkins issue an order that half of the trucks were to be manned at all times. Her confidence in him continued to grow.

Fisk and his squad were waiting outside the vehicle. “The flat is about a mile away, Sergeant. I’ll take the point. Let’s move.”