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The line of headlights was not visible until well inside the quarter-mile mark. Bruce Holleman counted four and - all right so far. Julie came out onto the deck and stood beside him. She was carrying an Auto-Ordnance M1 Carbine like the one across the arms of the Adirondack chair behind him. "No alarms so far," she said. "The nearest possible hostile is in Carlton." Carlton was about twelve miles away. He relaxed just a bit. "Better take up a position out of sight," he said and Julie walked towards the corner where the deck wrapped around. Their M1s had laser sights and with the advantage of surprise she would have an upper hand in the dark. Not as much with the fog though. The lead vehicle stopped without turning into the last segment of the driveway - about sixty feet away. Everything good so far. The remaining vehicles stopped behind it and the headlights went off. Then the lights on the lead vehicle flashed twice, another time after a couple of seconds, and then four times. He relaxed just a bit more. "Nightshade," his radio said. "Aquarius," he replied."How many fish did you catch?" "Three and a half," the radio replied. "Come on up," he said. "Just the leader." The passenger side back door on the lead car opened and a man got out. He walked up the short section driveway casually, hands at his sizes and arms swinging normally, showing the hands to be empty. Mason Bradshaw looked to be forty-something and Bruce figured that was about right. Six feet because he was almost exactly the same height as Bruce but built heavier. He was wearing jeans and a khaki shirt, long sleeves and two flapped pockets, practical hiking boots. The pair of pistols in shoulder holsters were 10mm custom jobs from Brigham McClain - 1911s with 14-round magazines and seven inch barrels and Crimson Trace grips. Bruce had seen in action only during practice but he was good with them. "How does it look out there?" Bruce asked. "Not a peep," Mason replied. "If they've got anything they've got a blanket over it for now. That's a possibility and they might be waiting to see where we went." "Yeah, in which case this place is compromised. Well, if it is we can let them move on it - it'll be a nasty surprise." "Let's hope it isn't," said Mason. "This is bigger than what we'd accomplish by luring a few dozen of them into a honeypot. You ready?" "Ready. Want to ride with me?" "Yeah, I was figuring on it. They'll disperse and take separate paths to the destination. We leave about an hour later and if we are being watched our departure likely won't be connected with them. Bravo Three and Delta Nine have been in place for over twenty-four hours and no sign of trouble. We'll be in place in another tree and have four or five hours to strike time." Mason turned and made a sign and the convoy fired up and moved out. Mason's lieutenant have been listening in all along. Julie emerged from the shadows and greeted Mason. "Pretty good," Mason said. "I had no idea you were there. Nice piece." "Easy to handle and lethal enough at close range," Julie said. "If I have room to work it's better than a handgun any day." "If you have room. What's your pistol?" "Sig P220." "Good one. "Come in for drink and a smoke before we go?" "Thought you'd never ask." They went into the main living area and Julie went on to the bar. Shortly she returned with a glass of wine and two glasses of whiskey. She sat down with them and they all took a sip. "Still getting Wild Turkey," Mason remarked, lighting a cigarillo. Bruce lit one too. "It's getting to be kind of a special occasion thing," Bruce replied. "Whatever producers are still going their output is prioritized and transportation is iffy anyway. We're all using what we stashed before." "Some people had quite a bit," Mason said. "Figured what would happen, but we're into the sixth year now. We might have to raid government stock before long." "Some may already be doing it - it's not like it would be in the news." "Yeah. I figure we'd know soon enough." "Probably but some outfits are better at keeping secrets than others." "Can't do much drinking when you're fighting anyway," Mason said. Bruce looked at Julie. She had the look she always had when he was leaving. "I'll be back in a few days," he said.
A hundred yards from the house was an old quonset hut overgrown with vegetation and surrounded bu trees and patches of weeds. It was barely visible from the air as it was but the short road from the house was covered with camouflage mats. Men were pulling them aside as they approached. The hut was of the nearly half-circle type and at sixty feet wide and a hundred long had a lot of space. A small part of that space was occupied by Albert II. Albert II was a 2009 Dodge Power Wagon - Albert I was a 1966 model military surplus and a little too conspicuous. As it was large quad cab trucks attracted more attention than was desirable but sometimes they were necessary. Their gear was in the back seat and Bruce took the wheel and Mason held a Commpad. A rack between the seats held a pair of Steyr AUGs in 5.56 and a pair of Springfield Scouts n 7.62 lay in the back seat. The Steyrs would do for an ambush or other close firefight while the Springfields would be useful in some other situations they had encountered. He fired up and rolled out, the crew closing the doors and covering the road. They would cover the four hundred yards from the house to the main road as they passed. It was a lot of work but keeping the place hidden was crucial. A couple of years earlier even the few minutes of activity and uncovering of the roads would have been hazardous but air surveillance capacity wasn't what it had been and was mostly needed in the populated areas and populated was one thing this area wasn't as it was nearly a mile to the nearest house. Lights were on in the house but it was now after 0700 so nothing suspicious. The convoy had passed at approximately one hour intervals to avoid attracting attention - the occasional single vehicle was nothing to arouse suspicion but more than one would. In any case they kept a close watch on the place as it wasn't a definite friendly. "Probably someone who wants to stay hidden and doesn't trust either side," Bruce said, noticing Mason looking as they passed. "They probably have no idea we're here of what's up there if they do notice traffic. From what I hear some surveillance is being done - checking out the occupants when they're away to see if any contact can be made." "What kind of occupants are they," asked Mason. "As far as we know two men and two women, all in their thirties," Bruce replied. "They go over to Carlton and Cherry Valley occasionally. Two old trucks - a early 2000s Ford Ranger and an older Chevy. Just people getting by somehow to most, and nothing more if they aren't as long as they don't attract the wrong kind of attention." "If they're ever brought into the fold they could be a useful asset," said Mason. "An early warning post among other things, stop for a minute..." Bruce slowed to a stop on the shoulder, checking his mirrors and the highway ahead as Mason consulted the Commpad. "OK," he said after a minute, "continue with caution. Speed limit and watch the other traffic closely - some of them think causing a collision with a suspicious vehicle is clever. They'll even rear-end you." That was one of many indicators of the marginal quality of regime enforcers. Many law enforcement had quit and military personnel didn't reenlist and were replaced with conscripts. "Think they'll keep trying it after what happened in KC?" Bruce asked. "I haven't heard of one since." In Kansas City a squad of ISS in four cars had initiated contact in that manner - a sudden lane change into the side of the target vehicle. The occupants got out and allowed themselves to be handcuffed while a half dozen cars closed in on them and two dozen men emerged and hosed down the ISS personnel. The two or three that survived probably would be leery of trying it again. "Could be they won't," Mason replied, "but you never know. They may wait a few months thinking we'll forget. Turn right instead of left at 188 - we'll loop around and cross over and get back on at Mooresville." "Got it." It added twenty minutes but they were still a few minutes ahead when they arrived at Point Alpha. Bruce shut down and opened his Commpad and linked the B screen with Mason's unit. It showed the battlefield - such as it was. If all went as planned there would be more demolition than battle. The Phase I units were in place and Phase II were waiting for the fireworks to signal their charge. Mason activated the BCU module and spoke: "Dark Hammer check in by numbers." One by the sixteen units called in ready status without hesitation. "OK Phantom Lancer, check in." All four units responded as ready. "Three minutes," Mason called. Bruce watched the seconds pass. "Twelve shots in each gun," Mason said. "They'll be rolling on nine." Bruce had seen them in practice runs - twelve-shot autoloading mortars that spread their shots in a programmed grid. Two would hammer the area around the mosque while the others spread destruction in a circular area around it. The Lancer units would, as they approached the mosque and departed, spray the area around their vehicles with with light machine guns, mainly to suppress any defenders but ensuring the destruction of the mosque was mandatory. Six, seven, eight... Bruce focused his binoculars on the center... ...ten, eleven... A ring of mortar flashes signaled the beginning and continued at six second intervals. After the last one the crews would load the weapons and depart. Gifts from Atlantis that were carefully guarded and were used only in operations like this - away from the cities and any non-hostile populations. He saw the lights of the Rhinos as hey crossed the half mile to the edge of the town, switched to a feed from one of the lead Rhinos. #2 was traversing a street leading directly to the center, gunners spraying either side. There weren't many people outside as the last shell had arrived just before the Rhinos. He watched as the Rhino circled the mosque, launching incendiaries into the building. Each made two circuits before the shells were expended and they headed out, again spraying the sides with 7.62 light machine guns. "All done," a voice reported after a while. "Egressing." "Report by numbers," Mason said. One by one the Rhinos reported, all sixteen were outside and dispersing. "Let's go," Mason said. "All the attention will be on this joint for a while and we'll get into our nest. Make port." Port was one of Mason's field command posts - back an hour past Bruce's place. There wouldn't be time to stop and see Julie and in any case she was better off not being in the loop at this point. He pointed Albert back they way they had come.
The command post was located in the middle of one of the largest camouflage nets Bruce had ever seen - at over five hundred acres it was bigger than the facility they had just come from wrecking and the command post occupied only about twenty of those acres in three separate areas. They arrived at the entrance after traversing about four miles of gravel road punctuated by wooden bridges spanning small ditches about ten to twenty feet wide but fairly deep - an obstacle to most ground transport if the bridges were gone. Bruce knew that most if not all of the bridges had explosives under them and would be gone in a matter of minutes if necessary. The place appeared to be a small settlement of mostly mobile homes and some derelict houses with brush and weeds covering most open area. Near the center was a fenced area of about five acres. As they ditch Bruce saw men dragging camo mats off the road as they did at his place. He let Albert idle through to allow them to replace the ones behind quickly and through the gate. The fence had trees and bushes growing its entire length but they were maintained sufficiently to avoid entangling and eventually damaging the fence but from the air it would look like an unused place with no acitivity. Most of the buildings were of the metal farm shop variety and were artfully discolored here and there to appear aged - most were less than five years old. In the center but somewhat closer to one end stood a pile of shipping containers - two high in most places and with a dozen or so at a third level. These were also multi-colored and faded and as they arrived Bruce could see that they were connected. He counted the rows and guesstimated that there were fifty or more. "Sixty-four," Mason said, noticing his examination. Five hundred and twelve thousand pounds empty, two hundred fifty six tons. Even empty there's no danger of tornado damage and the contents probably add another fifty to sixty tons. Parking is around back. Around back were several containers with the doors removed and with small ramps allowing vehicular entry. Bruce drove Albert into the first available one, parked it well inside and killed the engine. "Welcome to Coppertree," Mason said. "Come on in." Bruce followed him to the front of the container where a door had been installed. Once through the door they were in a forty foot hallway with a couple of doors on each side and another door at the far end. Inside the floor was tile apparently overlaid on the floor of the container, LED lights ran the length of the ceiling. "Aside from the parking garage," Mason said, "the outside rows are empty or contain various non-critical material. Inside they're all connected and finished out like a regular building. No elevators and probably won't be with just three floors, given the technical issues. Third floor is where we're going." They met only a few people on the way up - all in the grey semi-uniform Bruce knew to be a trademark of the Pandora group - no insignia and only suble clues as to status - a lapel pin or a ring or something like bands on a sleeve cuff. Several wore sidearms but others didn't - probably half of the dozen plus. The doorways were limited to eight feet or less but larger openings in the sides allowed for large rooms by combining two or more containers. Mason's offices were in such a room, about thirty by thirty. It was divided by partitions into several sections - as they entered they were greeted by a small group in similar uniform and two not in uniform. After some brief comments about the operation Mason indicated that two - Philip and Seth - should accompany them into a private area. The two non-uniformed - both thirty-something women - went without being asked. The partitioned area was about ten by twelve and held a large cocktail table surrounded by plush chairs. Both sides were open and a small kitchen and bar were outside one of the openings. "Grab a drink if you like," Mason said. "I'll be with you in a minute. Philip and Seth got beers from a small fridge and the two women poured glasses from a bottle of Arbor Mist - something white-based. Bruce appraised them as the listened to Mason talking to someone on his phone. Both were about the same height - the ash blonde about five-seven and the auburn about an inch shorter. Both wore tight jeans with long-sleeved T-shirts and snow-white sneakers. And both had the willowy athletic build that almost all women among the resistance had - physical fitness was the top priority and in any case there was little time for lounging and eating for pleasure. Neither was carrying a firearm but there would be a knife or two on each. Or other edged weapons like razors. Seth and Philip went in and sat down and the women followed just as Mason finished his conversation. "Grab a snort," Mason said, moving to the bar. "Turkey OK?" "Good with me," replied Bruce. Mason poured Turkey into two glasses and spooned a couple of ice cubes into each and handed one to Bruce and they went in and took seats around the table. "Seth Turner and Philip Faulkner," Mason said nodding at each in turn. "Miranda Kelly and Erika Randall are my executive assistants. Guys and gals this is Bruce Holleman from the MacArthur group. "I just checked in with Amarillo and thus far the enemy hasn't a clue of what even happened much less who did it." "No clue?" Seth asked. "OK," Mason replied, "they know the place got blown to perdition - from whence it came - and about three hundred of the faithful went to their reward. They'll collect evidence - tire tracks and maybe some brass that bounced outside the Rhinos and maybe figure out something about the demo devices but little else. We'll continue to monitor forever even though interest always drops off with each attack. We're watching the media on both sides and will get together probably tomorrow to go over it. Any questions meanwhile?" "It seems it went clean by the numbers," Seth said. "Any word on casualties?" "None so far," replied Mason, "serious anyway. Several incidents of returned fire in the last few minutes and a couple of guys got scratches. It was all small arms even though we had intel that heavier weapons - RPGs and forty grenade launchers. Supposedly there were a couple of fifties somewhere but if so they didn't figure in." "With complete surprise that seems about right," Philip said. "How long from contact until egress?" "With contact being when the Rhinos arrived less than ten minutes," Mason replied. "The first mortar rounds landed about forty, forty-five seconds before the Rhinos arrived. Once the mosque was clearly a done deal we egressed." "They still haven't figured out the mortars?" Seth asked. "No indication that they have," Mason replied. "If they do we should know fairly quickly. They way they leak on good days it doesn't take long. It took them three or four days to figure out the the pickup in Florida. We knew in another twenty-four hours what they knew." "What do they know?" asked Philip. "Just that a small aircraft landed on the beach and picked up two passengers. That Charles Stuart was one of them is still suspicion at this point and will probably remain that way. And that the aircraft headed for the Caymans - since they're friendly with Atlantis they'll probably guess that it was him and that's where he's going." "Makes sense," said Seth. "The war's over for him. He earned it." "Yeah," Mason said. "Probably he'll do some propaganda work to annoy them but three years in the gulag he deserves a break. Anything else?" "In that case," he said after no one had anything, "we have time for a smoke and a drink before lunch."
Bruce Holleman --
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