Chapter 11 trfedrdlarekodrewoanwardrvyglepsncnrfotienuliefatcoelewayrd Alex sat in the right side seat of the Typhoon as the driver turned if off the highway onto a dirt road. The entrance to the road was almost invisible, difficult to find even if one was aware of its location. All the vehicles in the operation had been painted to make them difficult to see from the air, their predominantly medium grey color blended with the asphalt roads they would be on most of the time. Rolling down a dirt road with a trailing plume of dust was not optimal, but the target was close and soon they would be invisible from above as they entered the surrounding forest. Eleven more of the armored fighting vehicles were converging on the area, having been hidden around the countryside just minutes away. They should all hit the main entrance and two smaller gates at about the same time. The entire base was less than half a square mile in area, roughly square, with a double fence around it. Patrols inside and out, and between the fences, where the main defense. The fences would not stop anything except people, but the constant surveillance would immediately alter the defenses once they arrived. The inside information they had indicated that there were unlikely to be much more than five hundred personnel. Six hundred would be the absolute maximum, a couple of their informants had told them. A considerable number of them would be support personnel - capable of fighting but unlikely to have weapons readily available. Probably a hundred or more would be in the woods and patrolling the perimeter - secrecy and vigilance were apparently their primary defense. Neither would avail them anything, thought Alex as they entered the woods, not moving as fast as the driver dared along the narrow trail. Gordon and Tyler were in two of the other Typhoons, and Alex waited for a call to indicate their position. He didn't have to wait long before Gordon reported. "Just entered the forest" he said. "We're about a minute in" replied Alex, as Tyler joined them. "We're in now" he said. The installation was roughly in the center, so they should all hit it at about the same time. "Report by numbers" called Gordon. He was the operational commander, and they were counting on his years of combat experience. One by one the remaining units called in. About another minute, thought Alex, as two men stepped out of the woods into the trail and immediately raised their rifles and fired a few rounds before wisely returning to the cover of the trees. The gunner in the turret above them didn't even waste ammunition on them - the Typhoon was impervious to small arms fire. It was the larger anti-armor ordnance they had to worry about. Suddenly they were in open terrain and the high double fence loomed ahead. More rifle fire was hitting the vehicle now, and the windshield was acquiring a collection of scars. Trails of flame and smoke indicated rockets being fired. They were moving too fast for anything except a shot fired from directly in front of or behind them, and the driver was now making course changes as quickly as the vehicle was able to, then they were through the fence and on one of the wide road with large metal buildings on either side, the turret gunner spraying anything wearing a uniform. He could see a couple of other Typhoons, one crossing an intersection just ahead of them, another headed their way. The drivers of the Typhoons began circling the outer streets, firing at any uniformed personnel, which was all they were seeing. Alex heard Gordon's voice in his headset. "Remember building 111. Advise when sighted and avoid blind firing in the vicinity" Building 111 was believed to be the prison, and they wanted to avoid accidental injury to any of the prisoners. The fleet of smaller vehicles operated by the Reds and Blues, with their militia units, were pouring in behind them now. The irregulars, as Gordon called them, had been divided into two units of a hundred men each, with one under the command of the Red group with the other under the Blues. At only half the size of the force they were attached to, the militia units would be easier to control. Kurt's men were similarly assigned, half to each force. There were now well over eight hundred men swarming the streets, and if any enemy troops were alive they were not showing themselves. "We got 111" shouted someone. "Looks like we're near the southeast corner, big white building with a green roof." "Secure the building and wait" replied Gordon. "Alex, get over there and take charge." "Yes sir" replied Alex. "On our way." Gordon's vehicle, meanwhile, followed by Tyler's, was circling what they believed was the command center. The large building had no windows, but there were two large glass doors on one side, large enough to accommodate a Typhoon. "Hit it" he ordered the driver. "Just be sure you do in dead center - we don't know how strong the building frames are." The driver accelerate ahead, crashing through the doors and emerging into a large area of what looked like rather flimsy walls. They did not even feel any resistance as the Typhoon crashed through one after another. A few personnel were sighted, frantically fleeing with varying degrees of success. Gordon felt an occasional bump that he suspected was one who didn't make it. The driver slowed slightly to avoid suddenly encountering the end of the building, turning when he judged it was near, then went back down the other side of the interior, finally exiting through the ruined entrance. "Red and Blue, report" Gordon called on the radio. Red leader responded first. "We've got it fairly quiet in our sector. About forty or so prisoners, no more resistance." "Excellent" aid Gordon. "Keep it that way. Blue leader, what do you have?" "Same here" replied the Blue leader. "We've got it buttoned down, no more visible enemies. We're fairly certain there some hiding inside, but they're not offering any resistance at this point." "Very good," said Gordon. "We're at headquarters, attempting contact with command now. Alex, give me a quick update." "We're inside, Sir. It's the prison all right, and it's pretty bad. We could use some medical assistance here when there's some to spare." "After Red and Blue have their casualty situation under control, the prisoners are the next priority." said Gordon. He didn't bother to state the obvious - enemy casualties would be the last to be taken care of. Gordon's command vehicle had been equipped with a powerful loudhailer, and he now spoke into the microphone, his voice echoing around among the metal buildings. "Whoever is in command in there, show yourself at the door. You have three minutes to comply. If you do not, we'll be back to finish what we started." They did not have to wait long. In less than a minute a man appeared at the door. By now two more Typhoons had joined them - the remainder were patrolling the area to discourage any further resistance. A dozen or of the smaller improvised vehicles operated by the Red and Blue forces had assembled around them, their machine guns pointed menacingly at the building, and some of the crew members, armed with rifles, had taken up positions behind them. "Walk this way," commanded Gordon. "Keep your hands in sight." The man, in an Army uniform, walked toward them, eventually stopping in front of Gordon's vehicle. Leaving his seat, Gordon exited through the back. The ramp had been lowered and the ten men inside were standing outside. "A couple of you men go bring him back here" said Gordon. As he waited, he lit a cigarette. He had been wanting one for what seemed like hours, although as he checked his watch he realized the operation had been underway for less than fifteen minutes. They had another fifteen to be on their way. Fort Hays was only about ten minutes away by air, but they had no combat aircraft. The nearest ones were over a half hour away, and ground traffic from Fort Hays would be at least that long. The man they returned with was disheveled and dirty - and looked quite dejected. A colonel, Gordon noted. He wondered if the man was one of the misfits with which the Army staffed units like this one. He wasn't holding up very well - likely the bureaucratic political operative that had always plagued the officer corps, though never in such numbers as now. Gordon looked at him as he finished his cigarette, noting the name. Petersen. He looked young for a colonel. Dropping this cigarette and grinding it out on the gravel surface, Gordon looked him in the eyes. "Colonel Petersen" he said. "You can order your personnel to stand down, assuming any of them are alive and able to continue, or we will finish them off, and you and your headquarters with them. Do that and we will be out of here in a few minutes. I don't want to hear anything from you except whether you intend to comply." "All right" said Petersen. "Can I have a man come out to take the order?" "Go ahead" said Gordon. Petersen took a small radio from his pocked and pushed a button. "Yes Sir" said a voice. "Robert" said Petersen, "Give the order to stand down. All men are to remain where they are and await further orders." "Yes sir" replied Robert. "Wait here" said Gordon, going back into the vehicle. He called the Red and Blue teams and found the situation calm. We're down to ten minutes now, he thought. "Make a prudent withdrawal to the egress assembly point" he ordered. Meaning withdraw but watch your back. "Alex" he called. "How are you doing?" "The prisoners are ready to go" Alex said. "Twenty two total, decent physical shape" Then after a pause, "Make that twenty three. This one is special, if you know what I mean." "What do you need?" asked Gordon. "I can't put this one in the general transport" said Alex. General transport was several ambulances and a handful of buses which had entered the area after the battle was underway. Once the prison was secured and the fighting around it had stopped, they had begun loading the freed prisoners onto them. "I'll have to take her back in my vehicle." he said. Gordon was somewhat intrigued, but that was what the after-action reviews were for. Whatever it was, Alex knew what he was doing. "Go ahead and egress now" he told Alex. "We're about finished here. I'll catch up with you later." "Affirmative" said Alex. "See you later." Gordon remained in the vehicle, coordinating the withdrawal, occasionally looking over at the hapless Colonel Petersen standing outside. He was going to be one unhappy man, thought Gordon. He grinned slightly as he thought of the investigations that would ensue. Petersen wasn't the only one in trouble - he would be a scapegoat, of course, but there would be a lot of worried people higher up the food chain. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alex was in the back of his Typhoon as the driver negotiated the trail out of the forest. Once on the highway he accelerated to the maximum safe speed, moving as fast as possible to the hiding place for the vehicle. If it was not found, it would be disassembled and shipped back to its freehold base. Alex wasn't worried about logistics at this point, or much of anything else except the young girl clinging to him, as she had been since he extricated her from the prison. Since he had carried her out of the cell she had clung to him so tightly he had difficulty moving. He was beginning to wonder just how he was going to get her to let go. He had felt it as they entered building 111 - a cold, dark dread that clutched at his heart. There was a brief exchange of gunfire as several personnel confronted them. They were shot down in an almost perfunctory manner, like targets on the practice range. Several more had the good sense to drop their weapons and assume a non-threatening posture, and they they were opening the cells. There were a variety of prisoners, of both sexes, although mostly men. Among the women, several were in the young adult to middle age range, but several others were quite young, apparently teenagers. What sort of crime could children be suspected of, he thought, noting that there were several boys as well. Of course, he thought. These monsters - he wanted to kill every one of them. But it was the last cell that killed his self-image as a completely dispassionate, calculating operator. On the concrete floor was what looked like an exercise mat, dirty and stained, like everything else in the cell. Including the girl chained to the wall. Naked and dirty, utterly terrified, she looked much to small to be real. As Alex entered she retreated to the corner of the cell, curling into a fetal position, hands over her face. His mind went completely blank for a few seconds, then he stepped back into the corridor. A couple of men were just outside - and he stood in the doorway. "Don't look" he said. "It's bad. I need the key for this one, fast. If you have to shoot some of the guards to persuade them, do it." They turned to go, and Alex went back in, kneeling beside her. "You're going to be all right now" he told her, looking into eyes that suggested she was beyond comprehension. "We're here to take you away, it won't be long. Hang on, OK?" If there was a response, it was imperceptible. Alex took off his flak vest and laid it over her - it wasn't much, but perhaps it would help to calm her. The men returned, one of them handing a key to Alex. "Try this one" he said. "It's a master to most of the others who were chained." He notice that it was a simple key, like a handcuff key, and tried it in the lock. It opened and he removed the cuff from her ankle, freeing her. He handed the key back. "Can you find a blanket, clothing, anything?" he asked. "Be right back" replied one of them, leaving at a brisk trot. He was soon back, with a couple of wool military-issue blankets. "Thanks" said Alex. "Let's see if we can get her into a vehicle." With the blanket around her, she seemed to calm slightly as he carried her outside. She was definitely a candidate for one of the ambulances, and he carried her toward one. She would not let go, and he had to climb into the ambulance. But as he tried to lay her on one of the gurneys, she clung to him like a spider. An incredibly strong spider, he thought. How could a young girl, half-starved from the look of her, be so strong. She never made a sound, but her eyes were wide with terror, and she refused to let go. He was about to ask one of the medics to give her a shot, but immediately dismissed the idea. If she woke up in a strange place, without him, there was no knowing what she might do. He had become her lifeline, her one hope of survival - not only physically but mentally. He knew he could not let her go until she ready to let go of him. She had relaxed slightly, no longer clutching him quite so tightly, and eventually she fell asleep. Finally able to examine her in a more calm situation, he tried to guess her age. He had never been good at guessing ages, but thought she was probably fourteen or so - older than he had suspected when he first saw her. She was also, he noticed, quite beautiful. Cleaned up, she would be not just another pretty girl, but possessed of an ethereal beauty that transcended physical appearances. He wondered what sort of person she had been before her ordeal, and if she could ever have a normal life. He knew that children who were abused when they were very young sometimes would have no memory of it when they were older, but if it happened this late in life it was likely to leave scars that would never heal, and a human lives were destroyed as surely if they were murdered outright. The Typhoon left the highway, now travelling down an unpaved road. It was surprisingly smooth, as the great weight and eight wheels isolated it from the smaller rough spots. The man who had taken Alex's seat up front looked back, noticed the girl had fallen asleep. "We're close to home" he said quietly. "Under ten minutes, looks like." Alex nodded, and he turned back to look out the front. Alex guessed the other men were as disturbed as he was. The other prisoners, although showing signs of abuse, were mostly calm and reacted as one might expect when being rescued from a bad situation. He wondered what had happened to this girl - he had an idea but didn't want to think about it. The sky was darkening, and the already dim interior of the vehicle was becoming darker as well. Alex prepared for their arrival, and the probable necessity of waking the girl as they disembarked. Something was changing within him, he knew. Or perhaps already had, and he was going to have to figure out how to deal with it.