Retribution (Soldier Up - Book Five 5) (12 page)

Major Luxon arrived, leading the Marines from the front; it was impressive to the Rowland family to see the Marine Commander on the road with his men.  Major Luxon met with Mr. and Mrs. Luxon for about an hour. Mr. Rowland then asked the Major to follow him.  Major Luxon shrugged and thought, why not? The two men headed out to one of the many barns on the property.  Mr. Rowland swung open one of the doors, “You think this will help you?” Mr. Rowland asked Major Luxon.

              The barn was filled from top to bottom with wheat and corn. “We had a bumper crop this year and it seems to be all going to waste,” Mr. Rowland told the Major.

              “I’m not the one to make the decision Mr. Rowland; you would need to speak to Captain O’Hara the base commander. I’m sure he’ be more than happy to take it.  With that said, why not sell it at the camps around the base?” Major Luxon said.

              “I didn’t know that was an option,” Mr. Rowland said.  “You know six or seven months ago the Missus and I tried to get into town a few times, but we always ran into gangs and others who robbed us and threatened to kill us.  After our last try we never went back.”

              “Well I can assure you those gangs are long gone; we took care of that. As for the robbers the civilian security forces will be following along.  In the meantime the NSWS will be taken on security for the area,” Major Luxon responded.

              “What’s the NSWS?” Mr. Rowland asked.

              “Naval Special Weapons Sailors. We Marines took a bunch of them and trained them up like they were Marines. Once we had the first couple of classes trained and we evaluated them, they took over the training.  They’ve got two Battalions of them now; see that down the road there?” Major Luxon pointed to the dust trail that had been getting closer and closer.

              “Yes sir I see that,” Mr. Rowland exclaimed.

              “That would be First Battalion Naval Special Weapons coming for a visit, and tomorrow Second Battalion will be arriving.” 

              “Why so many?”

              “We’ve been ordered by Captain O’Hara to expand our perimeters out; we need farm animals and horses for plowing,” Major Luxon eyed Mr. Rowland hoping he would see where he was going with this conversation.

              “Doesn’t Oceana have its own stables?”             

              “Yes sir it does and we’re using what we can now, but the horses are also being used for transportation by many.”

              “Well yeah, I suppose we can help you out.”

              “Mr. Rowland that would be greatly appreciated. I’m sure that Captain O’Hara will see that you’re fairly compensated and you still have the camp markets that are open to you now.”

              “When am I going to meet this Captain?” Mr. Rowland asked.

              “I sent word back immediately once we made successful contact with you.  I expect he’ll be along shortly; a lot depends on what’s going on in Virginia Beach that he may have to be dealing with today.”

              “I’ve got another question for you Major if you don’t mind.”

              “Not at all sir, ask away.”

              “Where y’all staying?”

              Major Luxon chuckled, “Well sir, I’m glad you asked. We’d like to bivouac here for the time being.   As soon as the Captain gets here and I can brief him on the situation, we and First Battalion will be moving out heading east.”

              “Major y’all can stay here as long as you like, but why head east?”

              “There’s another ranch out that way we need to visit, for the same reason we’re here.”

              “You’re heading out to the circle-T?” Mr. Rowland asked.

              “Yes sir, anything you can tell us about it?”

              “That’s some serious unsettled country. We thought the city was bad, but they don’t have anything compared to what’s going on out there.”

              “Whys that?”

              “They declared their own country out there; they got a lot of men and women that are heavily armed.  We’ve done some trading with them, but as long as we’ve kept to ourselves they leave us alone.”

              “So, you think they’re going to fight?” Major Luxon asked.

              “Oh hell yeah, I think they’re going to put up a big fight,” Mr. Rowland answered in a very serious tone.

Fort Sherman was located on Toro Point directly opposite of Colon, Panama.  It used to be the home of the Jungle Warfare Center for the United States Army; the base was turned over to the Panamanian government in 1999.  The SEAL team had found a comfortable spot in the jungle right above the old fort that gave them a spanning view of everything happening below.  There was a lot of activity. The soldiers and civilians were trying to rebuild was left of the old Fort Sherman upper and lower portions.  It looked more like make work to the SEALs, keep the people busy, pay them reasonably well and they won’t rise up and overthrow you.

              General Baker looked to be a busy man and the United States Army was alive and well, assuming of course they still considered themselves soldiers of the US Army.  Lieutenant Anderson, the team OIC had a difficult decision to make: d he attempt contact with the General or not?  He needed to find out the General’s intentions. The problem was if the intentions were nefarious then he and his men might never be seen again.  The Lieutenant discussed it with the rest of the team, as more of a democratic process, because all of their asses were hanging out; it’s not like they could call for an extraction.  They decided to send the Chief and Perez back out and have them make contact with the General.  If the shit hit the fan the rest of the team would hopefully be able to infiltrate the area and free the two men.  That was the current plan. 

              The Chief and Perez changed into their uniforms, which they had stowed in their rucksacks. They wanted to make sure they were identified as United States Navy with the SEAL trident above their left pockets.  They didn’t want to be mistaken for gringos or ex-pats that were living in Panama and didn’t want to be seen as spies even though they were spying on the old Fort.  The two men took a long route down to the Fort, since they didn’t want to leave a trail directly back to the rest of the team.  It took them two hours to get down to the road leading into the Fort because they were carrying their rucks and weapons.  During this time Petty Officer Fisher was keeping an eye on them using the scope on his M-107.  The Chief and Perez walked up to what was a makeshift main gate, and were stopped by two Panamanian soldiers who identified themselves as Military Police.

              The two SEALs presented their military identification cards and asked to see General Baker; there was a landline that ran from the MP station back to somewhere, odds were wherever the Officer of the Day was stationed.  Within fifteen minutes two Humvees speed up to the gate and four United States Army soldiers jumped out, heavily armed and charging at the two SEALs who remained calm.  The senior soldier that approached the SEALs was a Sergeant Major Weaver, who was at least six feet five inches tall, slim and spoke with a lisp, “Gentlemen.” The Sergeant Major said to the two SEALs. “What can I do for you?”

              The two SEALs were unimpressed by the show of force, “I’m Master Chief Jenkins, United States Navy.  I have an urgent message for General Baker from the President of the United States,” the Chief said.

              Sergeant Major was caught by surprise by the admission they had a message from the President; he didn’t know whether or not to call bullshit or believe him.  “Can I see it?” the Sergeant Major asked.

              “Negative,” responded the Chief. “It’s eyes only.” Referring to the security classification.

              Sergeant Major Weaver gave the Chief a hard look, “Alright, come with me then.”  The Sergeant Major led them back to the Humvees and asked them to get in. Perez thought, so far-so-good.

              From the main gate to the General’s headquarters was a ten minute or so drive; they arrived at the old Fort’s HQ that was undergoing serious remodeling to the structure. It looked far sounder than most of the buildings the Chief and Perez saw.  Only the Sergeant Major and the SEALs exited the vehicles, and then the vehicles left.  They entered the two-story building and headed upstairs. The Sergeant Major explained the General’s office was on the second floor towards the left end of the building.  It didn’t take long to get to; the men entered the General’s outer office, and the General’s admin was startled to see the two SEALs accompanying the Sergeant Major. “Is the old man in?” The Sergeant Major asked.

              “Yes Sergeant Major he is, you can go on in,” the Admin replied.

              “Follow me and don’t say a word until spoken to,” The Sergeant Major grumpily added. 

              “You know Sergeant Major, we’re the same rank,” the Master Chief said, “You can take your attitude and shove it up your ass.”  With that the two SEALs walked into the General’s office. 

              General Baker was sitting at his desk reading through all of the previous day’s reports, when he looked up, seeing two sailors in full combat gear and armed to the teeth.  He then focused on the trident on their uniforms. The two men came to attention and saluted, the General returned the salute, and said “At ease.” The Sergeant Major was trailing and was mad as hell.

              “God dammit sir, I’m sorry they got away from me,” Sergeant Major Weaver angrily spoke.

              “It’s alright Bill, I got this,” General Baker replied easily. “What can I do for the United States Navy today boys?”

              “Sir.” Chief Jenkins said and handed the General an envelope with the Presidential seal on it.  The General accepted it, looked at it in surprise and opened it, withdrawing the letter within and reading it, then reading it one more time.  He then carefully took the letter, folded it back up along its creases and gently placed it back into its envelope.  “Is this my copy?” General Baker asked.

              “Yes sir,” Master Chief Jenkins replied.

              “I want to assure the two of you that I’m, I mean all of us still represent the United States and will follow the orders of the President,” General Baker assured the two SEALs.  “Well gentlemen with that said, it looks like we have some work to do; there’s a party coming and I’d hate to be late for it.”

              “That’s good news,” Chief Jenkins said, “We’ve heard reports that you were kidnapping Panamanians and using them as slave labor.”

              “I’ve heard the same reports,” the General said.  “It’s true that I’ve forcibly removed local people to work here; however, they are paid in goods and services, fed, housed comfortably, and security is provided for them.  Once we bring them in granted, they aren’t happy, we explain to them to please hear us out, we send them to a briefing, give them a tour and then if they want to leave we tell them we will return them.  To date no one has left. Please by all means take a tour yourself.”

              Master Chief Jenkins and Petty Officer Perez didn’t really know what to think, what they saw coming in all looked on the up-and-up, but that could be deceiving.  Both men answered in unison, “Yes sir.”  General Baker wasn’t convinced that they believed him.

              “Sergeant Major please give these two men a Humvee and access to any place on post and the surrounding area.  Master Chief you’re free to go any place and talk to anyone you like. I want you to be a hundred percent convinced that everything I told you is true,” General Baker said in a very serious tone.

              “Sir that won’t be necessary,” the Chief said. “We appreciate the offer, but what we’d really like is some hot chow and a nice shower.”

              “Consider it done.” General Baker replied. “Sergeant Major please get them squared away.”

              “Yes sir,” the Sergeant Major said less angrily.

              “Chief when are you bringing the rest of your team in?” General Baker asked.

              The question surprised the hell out of the Chief and Perez. “Sir what team are you referring to?”

              General Baker looked at the two SEALs, “Ok if you want to play it that way, I guess I don’t blame you for now.” He looked the two SEALs over again, “Dismissed for now. I’d like to meet with you and your OIC at 1900 Chief and that’s not a request.”

              The two SEALs came to attention, saluted the General and marched out of the office with the Sergeant Major in tow.  General Baker sat back in his chair watching his new guests leave his office, wondering to himself how the hell they got there.

Sergeant Major Valliant, of the 82
nd
Airborne, had embedded himself with the scout platoon that was heading for Washington DC.  They were being flown up north in a C-17 along with two Bradley’s and a Humvee.  This was meant to supplement the Armor platoon from 11
th
ACR out of Fort Irwin and they would come under the command of 3
rd
Infantry Regiment.  The mission was, along with an infantry platoon from the 3
rd
to maneuver outside of the fifty-mile radius north of the capital.  The powers that be knew that Colonel Magnus and his army were a little over a hundred miles away. They wanted to do their best to cut that distance in half.

              They wanted to bring the fight to Colonel Magnus and not allow them into the capital; however everyone knew that if Washington wasn’t reinforced soon it would be easy pickings for Colonel Magus.  The 3
rd
could hold for a while and cause some serious damage to Colonel Magnus’s army, but they were outnumbered three-to-one.  Eventually, Colonel Magnus would overrun his forces, and then the Navy and what Marines there were would have to stop him.  The sailors, as dedicated as they were, were not combat soldiers; Colonel Lambert believed that Colonel Magnus would roll right over them and not think twice about it.

              The C-17 landed at Dulles around 1800 and the teams were quick to unload the aircraft and get it turned around; with only five C-17s they were a busy bunch.  The scout platoon would remain at Dulles; they met the armor platoon from 11
th
ACR who was there waiting for them as well as the infantry platoon, which was riding in M-35s.  Everyone was at the LOD, gassed up and ready to go. It was now 2300 and they began to move out, since it was going to be a long road march, first on the freeways to get out of the city as quickly as possible, and then off onto secondary roads. 

              The noise of the tracks carried at night. There was no traffic anymore, because it was too dangerous so not many people were out at this time of night. The normal post event noise levels that could be found in your average American city that might have masked the noise of the tracks were gone.   It was a warm night and the tank commanders and drivers traveled with hatches open or standing within the turret.  They were the only lights on the roads and they could be seen from quite a ways.  They took the I-495 north, then merged onto the I-270 and continued onto the US-40 W into Frederick, hoping there were no issues there.  From there they continued onto US-15 N into Pennsylvania and exited onto secondary roads and secured an area from which to conduct reconnaissance operations.  They did have a shortwave radio which would allow them to communicate with the rear echelon and give and get SITREPS (situation reports). 

              Colonel Lambert knew they were putting all of their eggs in one basket by running operations from this location.  There were several ways Colonel Magus could approach the capital.  However, Intelligence reports coming from the Special Forces teams on the ground stated they believed this was the route the Colonel was going to take.  That they were concerned about passing through Baltimore and getting bogged down there.  Colonel Lambert didn’t currently have the forces at hand to block all of the routes into the capital.  The logistic issues with Fort Bragg were still being worked out as well as transporting more troops from the West.  It seemed that the commanders in the West were far more likely to give him help, then Fort Bragg, at least that was his current feeling on the situation.

              Sergeant Major Valiant was in the lead Humvee, the first vehicle in the column moving down the road.  They weren’t moving fast, or slow, but at a moderate pace. All of the weapons systems were locked and loaded in the event anyone was stupid enough to attack a group of Abrams and Bradley’s, but some people were that stupid.  If everything went according to plan, they expected to be in place an hour or so before sunrise.  They would take breaks as necessary for refueling and restroom breaks, as long as it was safe to do, although it was fifty miles and they should be able, technically, make it without stopping.  The largest town they would have to pass through was Frederick, Maryland, where Fort Detrick would allow them to make a brief stop.  Contact with Fort Detrick had been made months ago; it used to be the Army’s biological weapons research and storage facility for such weapons.  It was also the home of U.S. Army Medical Research and Materiel Command.

              Major General Brian Lee was the post commander and the commander of MRMC; he was a graduate of West Point and had been in the Army for twenty-four years.  He was slim, bald and five foot nine inches tall and carried himself well for a fifty-six-year-old.  He was a surgeon and had been to Iraq and Afghanistan in that capacity as well as managing medical facilities in those locations.  Fort Detrick hadn’t been alerted to the fact that they were in the path of Colonel Magnus and his army, at least as far as the President, Secretary of Army, and the new military Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff were concerned.  If they did know at Fort Detrick, they knew because someone on the inside was a Colonel Magnus supporter and perhaps had contact with him.

              At 0300 they rolled into Fort Detrick to the surprise of everyone there. Most of the occupants granted were soldiers, but hadn’t even seen an Abrams or Bradley up close and personal.  They never expected to see one on post; they were loud and obnoxious vehicles and for the most part woke everyone on post.  This was a good thing, because Major General Lee had initiated the alert system, which recalled every soldier on post back to their duty stations.  Pre-event there were soldiers with families that lived off post and were contacted by telephone in the case of an alert with a recall.  Post event all soldiers, even those with families, lived on post, where it was much easier to contact.

              Even if the fort was under attack by the armor currently rolling onto post, there wasn’t much anyone there could do.  They were largely a medical facility and there were no combat units stationed there, except perhaps the Military Police, but they weren’t equipped to fight armor, Infantry could but there wasn’t a single infantry unit on the fort.  The Humvee in the lead of the column broke off and headed to the post headquarters.  The other vehicles began to spread out and set up a defensive perimeter, as least what they could with what they had.  This was something else that raised a few eyebrows. Many of the soldiers on the fort had deployed overseas in the combat areas and had seen similar things, but only when there was a threat of an attack.  What was going on? Many thought the rumor mills on the fort were going to start working overtime on all of the speculation.

              Sergeant Major Valliant exited his Humvee and headed into the headquarters building and to General Lee’s office.  The Sergeant Major carried a letter from President Washington, eyes only for the General.  The general’s office was located on the second floor of the building, but most of the building was dark, which was to be expected as it was now close to 0400.  General Lee and part of his staff had made it in and were huddled in his office.  There was a loud rapping on the door to the office.  General Lee, Colonel Humbart and Captain Xavier all looked up, and then at each other.  “Enter!” General Lee barked.

              Sergeant Major Valliant stepped into the office, located the General, marched up to him, came to attention and saluted.  General Lee returned the salute; he was surprised to see a Sergeant Major and more to the point, one from the 82
nd
Airborne.  “Sir,” the Sergeant Major said. “I have a letter for you from President Washington.” Sergeant Major Valliant handed the letter over.  At the mention of a letter from the President, which was highly unusual in his book, he stood and took the letter from the Sergeant Major.  The General opened the letter and read through it a couple of times. “How sure are we of this information?” the General asked the Sergeant Major.

              “Sir, we have folks on the ground observing, so we’re 100% sure of our Intel,” Sergeant Major Valliant replied.

              General Lee thought for a few moments, walked over to the large windows of his office and looked out.  “And what you brought is supposed to defend us?” General Lee asked.

              “No sir, we’re only here for the next twelve hours. We move out after that.  We’re the advance force only.  We’ll secure the way to the rally point and hold it until follow-on forces arrive.”

              “What are we supposed to do? We’re just about all medical here. We can’t hold off an army like that,” General Lee stated.

              “I don’t know sir, for the time being as I understand it the security of the fort is in your hands.  Your soldiers are always infantry first and they know how to use their weapons.  I can speak to the Provost Marshall and I’m sure he can help with getting you set up, but he’s going to need a lot of help.”

              The General looked from man-to-man in the room. “Alright, Captain would you ask Colonel Mair to report to me ASAP.”

              “Yes sir!” The Captain replied and hurried out of the room.

              “Colonel Mair is the Provost Marshall.” The General directed the information toward the Sergeant Major.  “You don’t have any officers with you?” The General asked.

              “Yes sir, we have a First Lieutenant from 11
th
ACR; he’s setting up security.”

              “I would have expected this from him, not you Sergeant Major.”

              “Yes sir, I understand. I was ordered by the Commander of the 82
nd
Airborne to take this command; a follow on order by the President placed me in charge of this operation.  The Lieutenant didn’t seem to mind,” Sergeant Major Valliant smiled at that.

              General Lee laughed. “I’m sure of that, takes him out of the line-of-fire if the entire op goes down the drain.”

              “Yes sir, that pretty much sums it up.”