Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) (80 page)
Read Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) Online
Authors: Marcus Richardson
“I wanted
to get us away from all this so much…if I stay, we’ll be going straight into
the fire. If we leave, it’ll be just the two of us, out in the wilderness
heading north towards…I don’t even know what’s there…or who survived,” he said
quietly.
“So…” said
Captain Williams from behind them. “What’s it going to be, gentlemen? I have
to tell you, before you answer,” he said, holding his hand up again to
forestall Erik from speaking. “I liked how you operated, both in the apartment
complex and on that boat. That’s the kind of soldier we try to train, but you
got it naturally. I’d be proud to have you with us.”
Erik and
turned slowly to face the soldier. “What about boot camp? Training? Hell, I
don’t even know when to salute or say ‘sir’ or…
anything
!” Erik said. He
was trying to convince himself he hadn’t made up his mind, but Ted knew
otherwise.
Captain
Williams smiled. “You know how to shoot an M-4. You know who the bad guys
are. That’s all you really need to know. Besides, that’s where I come in.
Don’t think that we’d just take anyone off the streets and throw a uniform on
‘em and expect them to be all they could be. The world has changed, son.
Everything’s changed. What I want from you two is reconnaissance. I know it
says staff,” he said, holding up the paper. “But this is war. I don’t need a
staff. I need eyes and ears out ahead of me.”
Ted turned
around with a dark smile. “Now
that
I can do.”
“I thought
you’d say that,” grinned Captain Williams. “Here’s the deal: you two swear the
Oath, I give you guns and gear and you range out ahead of us or go where I tell
you to and scout things out. My men are going to spearhead the battalion, and
I can’t go blundering north blind as a bat.” He put his hands on his hips,
gripping the web belt at his waist. “It’s a long way to the other side of
Orlando and there’s gonna be a lot of tight spots I hope to avoid. You two and
some other’s we’ve picked up along the way will keep the main column clear of
hotspots.”
“Uniformed?”
asked Ted.
“No,”
Captain Williams shook his head. “You’re going to be auxiliaries. Suit
yourselves, BDUs or plainclothes. As long as you get me the info and cause
some damage to the enemy, do what you want.”
“So if we
get caught, we’re hung as spies,” grumbled Erik. “Awesome.”
“No war is
without risk. That’s the nature of the game. And don’t fool yourselves. This
is a full blown invasion.”
Erik sighed
again. Ted did nothing but watch him. “Well,” said the younger man. “Captain
Williams I’ll be honest with you. I want to go north. Way north. My wife and
I…we intend to head for Upstate New York. I have family there…”
“I see,”
said Captain Williams, his face downcast.
“So you’ll
understand…when this is over, I want to be turned loose to head north.”
Captain
Williams looked at Ted. Ted shrugged. The soldier turned back to the big
civilian. “You help me out, son, and get us north of Tampa and I’ll make sure
you get a damned armored escort north.”
“Well,”
Erik rubbed his hands together nervously. “Then I guess I’m with you.” He
grinned, mind made up. “Do I call you Captain, or—“
“’Sir’ will
do just fine.” Captain Williams smiled. “I’m damn happy you two decided to
join us. I hope you’ll understand, seein’ how we’re a bit pressed for time…I
ah, took the liberty to…” he looked over his shoulder. “Sergeant!”
Another
soldier came through the door, arms fully loaded with gear. He was about as
tall as Ted but had arms like Erik’s thighs. Where Erik was pale skinned, this
man was dark, almost copper-skinned. His high cheekbones and long face told
Erik of his Native American ancestry.
“This is
Sergeant Pinner. He was born and raised in the piney woods of central
Florida. He knows this land like the back of his hand. He’ll be part of your
squad. I trust you’ll respect his advice.” The Captain turned to the new
soldier. “Sergeant, this here is Major Jenson and Lieutenant Larsson.
Lieutenant, the Sergeant here is going to be your aide de camp.”
Erik raised
an eyebrow. The soldier grunted and deposited the gear on the table. “Sirs, I
got you everything you’ll need but the guns. Rucksacks, boots, load bearing
vests and helmets. Camo BDUs look like hunting outfits anymore, so I figured
you might want them.” He stood back up and looked from Erik to Ted. His eyes
met Ted’s and the two men watched each other for a few moments before Ted
nodded. The Sergeant looked back at Erik as if he was appraising a horse
before a race.
Ted started
to pick up some gear and get dressed. Erik slowly followed suit, still not
quite believing what he was doing. The Sergeant stepped forward to assist him
with the vest and connected it to his belt.
“I know
this is a shock to you, Larsson. But…well, there’s a lot of that going around
lately,” Captain Williams said. He watched impassively as Erik and Ted got
themselves equipped. “We’ll administer the Oath in a minute. First I want you
to get over to the quartermaster and draw weapons. Pinner, take ‘em over.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ted glanced
at Erik and smiled. “Damn you look like a real dirty grunt.”
“How are we
going to explain this to the girls?” asked Erik as Ted adjusted his helmet for
a better fit. “I feel like we’re just pretending. It’s like Halloween.”
“I’ll
handle that,” replied Ted. “I’ve got lots of practice at The Talk.”
“Jesus….I
just joined the Army…” muttered Erik. Then he laughed. “Well, Grandpa would
be proud.” Erik suddenly felt nervous. Hiding on a boat during a battle was
one thing. Now he’d have to take part in it and stare down enemy soldiers,
professionals. A quivering fear snaked itself around his heart and squeezed
for a split second.
What the
hell am I doing?
Sergeant
Pinner seemed to read his mind. “Don’t worry, sir. It’s my job to make sure
you stay alive. And kick some European ass while we’re at it.”
Erik
laughed. “In that case, I better bring you along when we tell Brin.”
Outside,
the battalion prepared to retreat north.
Captain
Williams looked over their shoulders out the window.
“Today we
retreat. Tomorrow, we fight back.”
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ALEA JACTA EST
I HATE
THESE
things!
” said Mike’s static-filled voice.
Cooper
grinned and adjusted his earbud radio receiver as he watched the dark surf
flash by under his feet. He loved the feeling of freedom that filled his being
when he was sitting on the platform strapped to the side of a Killer Egg. He
turned his head to look through the open cavity body of the MH-6M Little Bird
as it hugged the coast heading toward Los Angeles.
“
No
better way to see the sights, Beaver
,” was Jax’s scratchy reply from the
other side of the small special operations helicopter.
“
Hooyah!
”
someone yelled.
Cooper
checked his dive watch and noted the time. 18:49. He glanced straight out to
sea and could see the vestigial glow of the sunset over the long horizon line.
A little behind and to the port side, the second fireteam of his platoon flew
along in formation. Four more SEALs were sitting on that small helicopter.
Two other Little Birds were on the starboard side of his own, carrying 8 more
SEALs. Team 9 was going in full-strength on this mission.
He
could barely hear himself think over the roar of the six-rotor engine a few
feet above his head. That was fine, actually. He rather enjoyed the relative
calm of this part of a mission. It didn’t matter if he was flying in the back
of a heavy transport ready to do a HALO jump, clinging to the side of an SDV
fifty feet below the ocean surface, or sitting on a bench on the outside of a
helicopter racing along the Pacific Coast.
God,
what a job. Cooper was savoring this reprieve from his forced-retirement, but
regretted knowing this might really be his last mission. He tried not to think
about that and tightened the brace on his right knee.
If
it weren’t for the fact that the President’s personal security was at risk, he
doubted he would have been tapped to lead his fireteam one last time. But the
LT went to his defense and was adamant to the higher-ups: it was Cooper or
bust.
The
pilot swung wide out over the ocean, about a half mile off shore of downtown
Los Angeles, dipping the starboard side down. The maneuver rotated Cooper over
onto his back so he was able to get a good look at the night’s crop of stars
popping out of the deep purple sky.
Something
caught his eye. “You see that, Beaver?” he asked Mike, sitting next to him on
the Little Bird’s port outrigger bench. “Ships on the horizon…”
“
Say
again?
”
“I
thought I saw
ships
on the horizon…”
Mike
leaned forward, looking. He shook his head. “
There’s nothing there. Better
get you some bifocals when we get back, old man,
” he chuckled. Cooper held
up his middle finger.
The
pilot’s no-nonsense voice crackled over their headsets: “
Coming up on final
approach
.
Viper flight
,
hit the deck
.”
In
perfect formation, Cooper watched the trailing Little Bird swoop gracefully
through the turn and then angle down to where it, along with Cooper’s vehicle,
was skimming the ocean swells, just fifteen feet above the waves. He leaned
out around Mike and could see the lights along the Santa Monica Freeway rapidly
approaching. Cooper noticed how deserted the shoreline was as they roared
toward the glittering line of white that was Santa Monica State Beach. He had
heard that the flu was getting bad, but never thought it would empty the beach
on a fine day like today.
“
Anyone
want to stop at the Pacific Park?
” asked Charlie from the second bird as
they flew over the park. Cooper grinned, watching the few people walking
around The Pier look up in surprise as the four small black helicopters split
the peaceful evening air and flew overhead in an arrowhead formation.
“
Nest,
Viper Lead. Viper flight is feet dry
,” reported the pilot.
“
Roger
that, Viper Lead,”
replied the voice of the mission handler back at base.
They
followed the Santa Monica Freeway for a few minutes before approaching their
destination. “
Two minutes
,” reported the pilot.
“Get
your shit wired SEALs, this is the real deal,” Cooper called out.
He
looked to his own load-out and checked his HK MP5 submachine gun. The
integrated red-dot/laser and a rail-mounted tactical light, were all functioning
properly. The front grip was secure and ready. One magazine fully loaded, a
round in the chamber, and 4 more across the front of his tactical vest. He had
his radio, a pouch loaded with M-79 rounds for the ‘pirate gun’ he had strapped
to his pack. He also had an old K-Bar that had been handed down to him from
his father, a Marine in the First Gulf War.
“
There’s
the interchange…forty seconds
…” announced the pilot. “
Viper Two, on
me. Viper Three and Four, take the triangle and call it
.”
“
Roger
that, Viper Lead.
”
“
Shifting
for approach on your starboard
,” answered one of the pilots behind Cooper’s
aircraft.
“
Viper
Four has starboard flank
.”
“Here
we go ladies…stay frosty,” said Cooper. The silence he received by way of
reply was expected and comforting. His men were locked, cocked and ready.
Nothing else need be said. They had executed protection-extraction missions
before in enemy territory, under fire. Here, flying over Los Angeles at
sunset, would be pure cake, but no one was slacking off.
As
he focused on the odd, arrow-shaped building that was All Saint’s Hospital, the
sky behind him suddenly lit up to noon-bright.
“
Missile!
”
someone yelled.
“
Holy
shit!
” screamed Charlie.
“
SAM
lights, Viper flight, evasive! Scatter!
” yelled Cooper’s pilot. Without
further warning, he pulled the Little Bird into a gut wrenching dive that
caused the world to spin past Coopers head in a dizzying blur. The other
pilots responded, creating a confusing jumble of chatter in Cooper’s ear.
“
Nnnnnh…
”
someone grunted.
“Hang
on!” roared Cooper.
“
Rooftop,
two o’clock low, here comes
—”
Another
explosion lit up the early evening sky, this time right in front of Cooper.
Two screams were cut off in a hiss of static. As his own pilot forced the
little helicopter to gyrate and drop even lower, he could see parts of the
unfortunate Viper 3 and its passengers shoot out in all directions from the
fireball.
“
No!
”
someone roared.
“LT!”
Cooper heard himself scream.
“Taking
small arms fire
,”
warned the pilot. “
Hang on back there
.”
“
I
got targets on three rooftops—aaah!
” yelled Jax.
“
Jax’s
hit!
” said Petty Officer Alexander Knuteson from the other side of the
helicopter.
Cooper
was desperately scanning the buildings blurring past his field of view looking
for targets. The pilot was flying forward even faster now, nose down, zipping
in between buildings. Muzzle flashes to Cooper’s left caught his eyes as he
struggled to keep his head level in the wind.
“Tangos,
seven o’clock high, the rooftop! Light ‘em up!” Cooper called out. He pulled
his MP5 to his side and fired a burst in the general direction of the figures
on the roof of the apartment building they roared past. He had little hope of
hitting anything with the pilot jerking the aircraft as if he were flying
drunk, but at least it gave the enemy something to think about. Three more
weapons spat fire and bullets from his helicopter. He could see flashes coming
from behind them and knew Charlie’s fireteam was shooting back as well. The
broad starburst of Jax’s M60 shredded windows where someone had taken a few
pot-shots at their aircraft.
The
pilot came to an intersection and dove for the street. Cooper felt sick to his
stomach.
That
had never happened to him before. Making a hard bank to
port, the pilot hung Cooper and Mike were almost low enough to touch the cars
below. Cars, delivery trucks, motorcycles, and scooters were squealing out of
the way of the little black helicopter as it cruised through the intersection
doing 80 miles an hour only ten feet off the deck.
Cooper
got a blurred glimpse of windows exploding and more muzzle flashes.
“
They’re
everywhere!
” someone called out. Loud metallic pings and pops echoed
around Cooper.
“
We’re
taking damage
,” grunted the pilot. “
Losing hydraulics…hang on!
”
The helicopter was smoking now, leaving a curling black trail in the air about
ten feet above street level. Cooper could see people running for cover.
“
There’s
a parking garage, dead-ahead. Hit the roof, Viper Two!
”
“
I’m
right on your six…”
“
Ten
seconds
,” warned the pilot.
As
the Little Bird flared out over the upper level of the garage, dirt, gravel,
and thick acrid smoke flew up into the faces of the four SEALs. Cooper ignored
the stinging from his face and was thankful he had his clear goggles on. Ten
feet, five…
“Now!”
he called out. Safety straps were ripped clear and his SEALs leapt from the
still moving helicopter and rolled clear. In a heartbeat, the pilot hit the
throttle and powered the aircraft up and away, engine whining, heading north in
a cloud of smoke.
As
the Killer Egg lifted out of his line of sight, he could see the last remaining
helicopter perform a similar maneuver on the building across the alley. It was
a five-story medical building with a few large air-conditioner units and
heli-pad on the roof.
In
seconds, the helicopters had passed from sight and slipped in between taller
buildings, effectively leaving the remaining SEALs in silence.
“Cover,
now!
” hissed Cooper. His black-clad squad crouch-walked to the edge of
the roof and ducked down below the short facade. They were in near-darkness –
there was only one light on the roof, glaring balefully above the single
roof-access door.
“Ell-Tee?”
Cooper said. He checked the frequency on his radio. “Echo? Stumpy, Little
John—
anyone
, come in…”
“
What
the fuck was that?
” called out Charlie’s voice over the net.
“Head
count,” said Cooper, angrily pulling his clear eye-shield off his helmet. He
looked at his fireteam.
Swede
was finishing up a field patch on Jax’s left arm. On his other side, Mike was
peeking over the edge of the building with his next-gen night-vision goggles
already in place.
“Team
1, good to go,” Cooper said, satisfied that his squad was combat-ready.
“
Team
2 good to go.
I think we lost both birds,
” said Charlie from the
next building’s rooftop.
“I
know,” Cooper said through gritted teeth. “Those assholes were waiting for us
–“
“On
our whole flight path
?”
said Charlie’s voice in disbelief. “
That’s not possible
…”
“Someone
must have
gave
them our flight path. It was a Goddamn
trap
. In
Los
Angeles
.” He punched the graveled roof by his side in frustration, but
calmed himself after a second and called out, “Nest, this is Striker One,
Actual, do you read me?”
He
got no response.
“Hey
Coop, I see some of ‘em on the building across the block to the south. I count
six,” whispered Mike. “They’re right between us and the hospital.”
“Nest,
Striker One, Actual,
do you read me?
” Cooper called out again. Static
was the response. “Tank, keep trying to raise fleet.”
“On
it
,”
came the deep reply.
Cooper
closed his eyes tight for one deep breath.
Get a hold of your emotions,
Master Chief
.
There will be time to mourn later. You have a mission to
perform. And you
will
exact retribution.
With
two bright fireballs, he had lost half his Team, including his commanding
officer and close personal friend. He was now in command of what was left of
SEAL Team 9.
Two
days…they were going to retire my ass in two fucking days…
“
Sparky what you
got?” asked Cooper.
“
Got
a dozen more on the two buildings east of the hospital. Damn it…there’s a lot
of them
,” reported the deep bass voice from Petty Officer First Class John
Sparks, the platoon sniper. “
They look like they’re setting up some comms.
Some kind of mast array. Industrious little bastards
.”
Cooper
leaned around Jax and Swede and could see the Nebraska native on the other
building with his Mark 12 5.56mm SPR sniper rifle perched on the edge of the
building, scanning for targets almost half a mile away. Cooper closed his eyes
again, leaning back against the facade. He needed three heartbeats.