First Strike
Sheridan shone his light down a dark and wet tunnel. “All clear,” he reported as he climbed down inside.
“I hate places like this,” said Garcia.
“At least no one is shooting at us,” said Roberts as he helped Tammy down.
“Not yet,” threw in Cole.
“I could have left you all on the bridge, you know,” said Sheridan to his teammates.
“I take it all back,” responded Garcia quickly. The image of the collapsed house resting on top of her head made her shudder.
“Which way?” Sheridan asked Leon.
“Straight ahead and then take the first left. It will take you to a grate that opens near the river,” explained Leon, sounding like he wished he was somewhere other than back in the cold, damp tunnels with a bunch of soldiers.
Sheridan led off. Cole had returned with everything on their list, from pistols with silencers built into the barrel to ultra-lightweight ceramic knives to fresh sets of liquid body armor. Leon had reluctantly surrendered a vast horde of critical supplies to the Marines. Garcia had managed to round up some warm, but dirty, civilian clothing for everyone to wear. Clean clothes would make them stand out among the refugees camped outside of the capital if they were even there anymore. When they were about fifty meters from the tunnel exit, Sheridan switched off his light plunging the tunnel into darkness. He waited a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dark before edging carefully to the metal grate. The ground under his feet was slick with ice. He reached into a pocket, brought out a small hand-held scanner, and checked the metal bars for explosives. With almost everything else electronic being jammed by the enemy, Sheridan prayed that the scanner would still work.
The screen read clear. It was safe to proceed . . . he hoped.
Sheridan looked over at Cole, who stepped forward with a long, narrow metal coil in his gloved hand. After examining the grate for a few seconds, Cole bent the metal into a U-shape. Slowly, he threaded the mechanism through the bars until it was looking above them. On a small screen built into a wristband, Cole studied the ground above the tunnel. It was clear. He pulled in the viewing device, removed the monitor from his wrist, and handed them off to one of the MPs accompanying them.
Sheridan turned around and looked at the senior MP, a sergeant. “Okay, it looks safe out there for now. Wait here for thirty minutes in case we suddenly return. If we don’t, head back the way you came. We’ll be back here at precisely the same time tomorrow evening. If we’re not, wait for one hour in case we’re late and then booby-trap the tunnel as we’re most likely never coming back.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the MP. “What about the prisoner?”
“If you don’t need him, leave him behind next time.”
Cole grabbed ahold of the grate and pushed it open. “Let’s go,” he whispered. As soon as they moved out onto the riverbank, they felt a cold wind bite at their faces. The temperature was well below freezing.
Sheridan quickly got his bearings and pointed off toward a line of fires burning in a wood line a few hundred meters away. With his hands in his pockets and his head down, he walked across the frozen ground trying to look as if he belonged there. He doubted the enemy was patrolling the refugee camp from the sky after the losses to their fleet of drones. However, all it took was one drone to spot them and they would be killed by a missile in seconds. He could smell the smoke from dozens of fires as it hung listlessly in the cold night air.
As they got closer, Sheridan could see a makeshift camp. Using discarded pieces of wood and pieces of destroyed buildings, the people had managed to build a shelter against the bitter winter.
Cole reached out and grabbed Sheridan’s arm. “Sir, I think we should let Roberts and his dog check out the camp before we all walk in there and find out that it’s unfriendly.”
Sheridan nodded.
Roberts patted Tammy on the head and then as casually as he could, he strolled toward a group of people standing around a roaring bonfire.
A man with a thick black beard saw Roberts and pulled a machete from his belt. “That’s close enough, friend. How can I help you?”
“I’m cold and hungry,” replied Roberts. “Can I come over by your fire? I have some things with me that I can barter with you for some food.”
“Like what?’ asked a woman with dirt caked on her face.
“I have a flint and a full bottle of Scotch.”
“Step close then, friend,” said the bearded man.
Roberts thanked the man and carefully walked over to the warmth of the fire. He saw that there were at least a dozen people wearing a mix of whatever clothes they could find.
The bearded man looked at Roberts for a minute. “Friend, I’ve never seen you around before. What’s your name?”
“Roberts, my name is Roberts,” he replied, holding his hands out over the fire to warm them up.
“Well, Roberts, my name is Manfred and the woman to my right is my wife, Nancy.”
“How come we’ve never seen you before tonight?” queried Nancy.
“I’ve been looking for my younger brother for weeks. This is the last place that I haven’t checked,” he answered, recalling Sheridan’s report about missing teens.
“He won’t be here,” Nancy pronounced glumly. “They took all the young ‘uns away a month ago. I ain’t seen anyone under eighteen for at least two weeks now.”
“Is there another camp nearby where I could look?”
“You could try back in the woods. I hear there’re people still living back there. They’re none too friendly though, or so I’ve been told,” said Nancy.
“Thanks,” replied Roberts, making a turn to leave.
“Hold on, friend,” said Manfred. “What about that trade?”
Roberts stopped in his tracks. “I’ll give you the booze for some food. What do you have?”
“Only the best,” crowed Nancy. “We’ve got Chosen rations we can trade with for your bottle.”
“Are they any good?”
“No, but it’s better than starving,” the bearded man replied.
“What will you give me for my bottle?”
“Four ration packs?” said Nancy.
“Make it six and we have a deal. I’m not going to haggle with you. Make up your minds now or I’m going to walk.”
“Deal!” said the man, thrusting out his hand to cement the agreement.
Roberts shook the man’s hand and then brought out a bottle from his pocket while Nancy left the fire to fetch the rations. “How come you have Kurgan food?”
“We do the odd chore for them,” replied Manfred.
Roberts was stunned to learn that people were collaborating with the enemy. “Like what?”
“We retrieve their dead from the city and stack their bodies out in the open field,” the man said, pointing out into the dark. “They burn them at night. I’ve lost count of how many bodies we’ve seen go up in flames.”
“Anything else?”
“No, we’re busy enough carrying their dead back here.”
“Here you are,” Nancy said, handing Roberts the rations.
“And here you are,” Roberts replied, giving her the Scotch.
Nancy’s eyes lit up at the sight of the amber liquid in the bottle. She unscrewed the lid and took a sip before handing it to her husband who did the same. Both people looked to be in heaven.
“Thank you for your trade,” said Roberts, edging back from the fire.
Nancy looked over at Roberts, smiling. “Why don’t you spend the night and continue your search in the morning?”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea, rest here by the fire and warm yourself up,” added Manfred.
An uneasy chill ran down Roberts’s spine. It was time to leave. “No, thanks, I really must get going. My wife is waiting for me.”
Nancy said, “Bring her here as well. I’m sure she’d like to get out of the cold for a while.”
Roberts shook his head, turned about and walked as quickly as he could back out into the dark.
When he linked up with his comrades, Roberts passed on what he had learned.
“Do you think you can trust them?” asked Cole.
“No way! If I would have stayed, I bet they would have sold me to the first enemy patrol they saw in the morning,” replied Roberts.
Sheridan said, “Well, there are two things we’ve learned from Roberts’ interaction with those people. First, the enemy has suffered grievous losses, so much so that they are ready to use the refugees to clear the streets of their dead. Secondly, that not everyone is willing to play along with the Kurgans. I suspect the people living farther back in the woods have no love for the enemy. I think that’s something we can use to our advantage, just not tonight. We need to find out what is going on in the Kurgan lines.”
“We could snatch a Chosen soldier and interrogate him,” suggested Garcia.
“Perhaps, however, I’d rather not have any interaction with the enemy. The longer we go on about our business undetected, the longer we’ll live.”
Cole pointed to another camp about half a kilometer away. “We may find what we’re looking for over there.”
Sheridan grinned. It was near where he had first spoken to a group of refugees when they had been trying to reach the capital. It was too much to hope that the same people were still there. With a nod, Sheridan started to walk.
The site was much smaller than the one Roberts had checked out. There was only handful of people standing by a fire. Sheridan instantly recognized Eve, the black woman he had spoken to almost a month ago. She looked gaunt and tired. He did not know anyone else. His gut, however, told him that he could trust them.
Eve’s face lit up when she saw Sheridan walk into the camp. “My God, I never expected to see you ever again. We’ve been watching the nightly barrages on the city. It’s an awful spectacle. To be honest, I wasn’t sure there was a living soul left inside that abattoir.”
“It’s just as bad to be on the receiving end of all that fire,” said Sheridan. “Trust me, there are people still alive in the capital resisting room by room and house by house. We may be bloodied, but we’re far from defeated.”
Eve set a hand on Sheridan’s arm. “That is good news.”
Sheridan introduced his team. A man in his seventies wrapped in several dirty blankets lying by the fire slowly reached out and petted Tammy’s head. A smile broke on his muck-encrusted face when Tammy sat down beside him.
“These are for you,” said Roberts handing over the ration packs. “I got them from someone else and by the looks of everyone here, you could use them more than we ever could.”
The people thanked Roberts and then clawed at the rations, tearing the bags apart to get at the food.
Sheridan asked, “Eve, when did you last eat?”
She stopped what she was doing and looked blankly off into the dark. “I don’t know . . . I honestly don’t know.”
“Jesus,” said Cole under his breath. “One group is near dead, the other is sitting fat, dumb, and happy only a few hundred meters away. What the hell has gotten into those people? We’re all supposed to be in this together.”
“Some apparently don’t think so,” mused Sheridan. He looked at Eve. “Do you know what is going on in the Kurgan lines?”
Eve shook her head. “The only thing I can tell you is that they received reinforcements a couple of days ago. A former police officer searching for his wife wandered through our camp a couple of days ago. He said that he heard the Kurgans had brought in a fresh division of infantry and a regiment of combat engineers. He didn’t say why, though.”
“Engineers, now that’s interesting,” said Sheridan.
“I guess their failed attempt to take the bridge has made them adjust their plans,” said Cole. “I bet next time they’re going to try someplace else and build their own bridges across the river.”
“Looks that way.”
“Sir, shouldn’t we report this right away?” asked Roberts.
“We will when we go back tomorrow. Also for the love of God, don’t say ‘sir’ ever again while we’re outside of the city. Use my name. We’re supposed to be a group of friends looking for food, not soldiers.”
“Sorry.”
“You should rest here until the sun comes up,” Eve proposed. “There’s a hill nearby, you can use it to spy on the Kurgans.”
Cole nodded and said, “Well, Eve, I guess we are your humble guests. Is there anything you would like to know?”
The old man paying attention to Tammy looked up. “Is the fleet coming to save us?”
“I wish I knew,” Sheridan replied, looking up into the star-filled night. He wondered where Tarina was and if she was safe.
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