Sic Semper Tyrannis (12 page)

“Yeah,” said Ted, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched the planes.  “I don’t think we can stop them.”

IT WAS A SLAUGHTER,
Aleksei
,” said Colonel Doskoy’s voice over the speaker in the command BTR.  “
The Americans sank every vessel but one and did not even bother to render assistance.  Wholesale murder.  The worst part is the loss of a directed-energy weapon bound for New York.  It will be a major setback for our forces in the north, but of little consequence to us at the moment.”

“What are my orders, Colonel?” asked Major Strogolev through clenched teeth.  He wanted to get busy doing
something
before he broke the radio transmitter in his hands. 

“
Moscow has changed our priorities.  No longer are we to merely hold Miami and the south.  We are to push forward and crush the Americans.  Reinforcements are en route from home, so it will take a few days.  In the meantime, I want you to help distract the Americans near Orlando
.”

“Of course, Colonel.”

“
Our reconnaissance drones have returned video of American convoys leaving Tampa, heading east.  We must conclude they know we’re coming.  They will try to shore up their defenses.  You are to engage them on the east side of Orlando and draw their attention.  Don’t let them get comfortable, do not let them dig in.   If you keep them tied up for just 24 hours, I will arrive from the south with the main force by sunset tomorrow.  Then these cowboys will learn how Russians fight a war
.”

“What about air cover?” asked Strogolev.

“Do not worry about that, Major.  We have attained air superiority.  They still have a decent attack capability, but they no longer roam their own skies with impunity.”

We’ll see how long that lasts
, Strogolev told himself. 
They are not likely to give up control of their skies so quickly—I don’t care how many planes we throw at them.

“
Mother Russia will be proud of us this day!
” said the colonel.  “
Now go and show some initiative, Strogolev—win some glory for yourself before the real campaign begins.  When we head north and enter Georgia, we will encounter some stiffer opposition.  They have had time to entrench themselves, these cowboys.
”

“It will be done, Comrade Colonel.  We will be victorious.”

“
That’s the spirit, Aleksei!  Do your family proud!  Base out
.”

Strogolev tossed the handset down in disgust and fumed in silence for a moment, staring at the plain steel interior of his BTR.  He obsessed over the American fleet destroying unarmed U.N. vessels on a mission to bring the rogue American assets scattered around the globe to heel. 
These cowboys are truly insane
, he thought. 
They are acting like mad dogs—attacking anything and anyone that gets too near.

That thought made him reconsider his options.  A cornered animal could prove to be most dangerous, indeed.  And he had already seen firsthand what the local
civilian
population was capable of accomplishing.  That bridge explosion had been impressive.  The American military, if backed into a corner, could potentially have devastating effects on their mission.

We must be cautious not to over-expose ourselves.  They will take every advantage of us if given half the chance.  I would.

“What are your orders, sir?” asked Gregor from the open hatch of the BTR.

Strogolev sighed and climbed out of the armored vehicle into the bright semi-tropical sunlight.  The command staff came to attention and waited patiently.  Strogolev looked around and considered his options.  The Colonel had said to invest the east side of Orlando—to keep the Americans busy.  But he had also told him to take the initiative.

“Brothers,” said Strogolev in his most solemn voice.  “I have had bad news from Moscow.  In support of the United Nations, a fleet of commercial and civilian ships tried to convince an American carrier and its fleet to stand down—out in the middle of the Atlantic.  They were all slaughtered, almost to a man.  Over a thousand Russians died…”  Strogolev had no idea how many had died, but it never hurt to fire up the troops with a little embellishment.

The ripple of anger and murmuring helped make Strogolev’s mind up for him.  He knew what the plan was going to be now.  “To that end, Moscow has changed our mission—we are to lunch a punitive campaign against these
nekulturny
cowboys and teach them that they cannot killed unarmed Russian citizens without repercussions.”

A ragged cheer went up from his officers.  Strogolev smiled.  “We have been ordered to attack the city of Orlando.  The Americans are using it as a base of operations and as part of a defensive line that stretches across this state.”   He squatted down and put his finger into the sun-warmed, sandy dirt at his feet.  The officers gathered closer to watch. 

Strogolev drew a rough outline of Florida and a slashed it in half west to east.  He made an impression in the dirt for Tampa, one for Orlando, and another at the southern tip for Miami.  He drew a line from Miami to Orlando.  “Colonel Doskoy is bringing our main forces north from Miami—the Cubans will control the southern part of the state.  We will attack from the east and keep the Americans occupied until Colonel Doskoy can arrive.”

“But Major, the city is so large—so spread out…”

“Yes,” said Strogolev, nodding in agreement.  He stood and dusted his hands off.  “We are too few in number to think we can draw the attention of the remaining American forces in Florida.”

“So how can we keep them distracted?  Won’t they see through us?” asked the vehicle commander.

“They would—but we will give them something else to look at.  We will attack using incendiary rounds and try to set fire to as much of eastern Orlando as possible.”

“They have been without power and water now since the beginning of the summer,” observed one of the junior officers.  The group murmured to itself.

“Then we will start a firestorm that will burn Orlando to the ground,” said Major Strogolev. 

IF YOU CAN STOP feeling sorry for yourself for a moment, I could use a hand,” said Ted in a voice that Erik knew was meant to be friendly yet sounded anything but.

Erik turned away from his binoculars and looked over his shoulder at Ted.  The ex-Marine was trying to hold their ultra-light drone steady in the stiff breeze that whistled past them as they sat on top of the building that they had chosen for an outpost.

Erik crouch-walked over to Ted and helped hold the little toy-airplane device while he got the engine started and checked the electronics.

“I’m not just sitting here moping, you know,” Erik said, trying hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Ted grinned.  “I know, man.”  He flipped a switch on the control unit and after a series of green lights lit up, Ted pronounced the drone ready.  “All right, let’s launch this thing.”  He grabbed the radio on his belt.  “You got a signal?”

After a brief pause, Pinner’s voice replied,
“Hooah
.”

“Okay,” responded Ted.  “We’re launching.”  He turned to Erik.  “Let ‘er rip.”

Erik stood and cocked his arm, feeling for all the world like a quarterback ready to throw the game winning touchdown.  He threw the little plane forward into the wind and it shot into the sky, its electric motor whining as it quickly gained altitude.

Erik took cover behind the plaster covered steel facade of the building they occupied.  He felt naked out on the crushed gravel roof.  Situated on the southeast corner of Lake Eola Park, the apartment building was ten stories tall and provided a commanding view of the eastern extreme of Orlando proper.  They would have no trouble monitoring the Russian advance.  He could easily see both Colonial Drive and the Holland Expressway, the two main east-west highways nearby.

Ted crouched behind an air conditioning unit and focused on the controls in his hand as he flew the little drone east.  “You know, I never said it, but I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess,” he said quietly.

Erik sighed and reached for his binoculars.  “You didn’t drag me into this,” he replied.  “I made up my own mind.  Besides, both of us were just trying to make sure our families are safe.”

“I know, but still.”  Erik heard the rustle of Ted’s clothing as the Marine turned and shrugged.  “Joining the Army—or any service—is a huge step.  And you were dumped into the middle of a war on top of everything else.  I just wanted you to know—”

“In case we die?” asked Erik, this time, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.  He frowned, looking through the binoculars.  “Jesus, Ted, I’ve got enough on my mind without you reminding me we’re probably sealing our own fate out here.”

“We’re not on our own, man, the other teams are—”

“Yeah, I know,” said Erik.  “The other three- and four-man teams scattered all over this side of Orlando.  Doesn’t make me feel more secure.”

“Would you prefer a tank?” Ted asked in a quiet voice.

Erik laughed.  “Yeah, actually, a tank would make me feel pretty damn secure.” 

“Well, I got one for you, but it ain’t ours.”

Erik turned and looked over his shoulder at Ted.  He suddenly found his throat was too dry to speak.  It felt like a hand had just wrapped around his heart and began to squeeze.  Blood rushed in his ears and created a roar that threatened to drown out the world for a second or two.  He swallowed and tried to speak again, “Is it them?”

Ted glanced at Erik and in that one look, Erik knew they were doomed.  The Russians had arrived.  There would be no hide-and-seek this time, no ‘run away’ orders as soon as the fighting started.  Erik looked back to the east over the edge of the rooftop and tried to keep his hands from shaking. 

Dear God, please let me see my wife again…

Erik suddenly felt foolish that in all his fears, he was wasn’t really afraid of dying or some horrible wound—he was afraid he’d never get to look at his wife’s face, see her smile, fall into her captivating almond-shaped eyes, or hear her honest laugh again.  He closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth in an attempt to regain his composure.

“It’s okay, man,” said Ted’s voice.  “Everybody goes through it the first time.”

“It’s
not
my first time,” Erik growled, sounding to himself more like a petulant teenager than an officer.
You survived the attack at the gate back at the Freehold,
he told himself. 
You rescued the soldiers from the marina.  You organized and led the people of the Freehold.  You can
do
this!

He roughly wiped his face and tried to clear his eyes enough to look through the binoculars.  “I’ll be fine,” he muttered.  He continued scanning the horizon with his binoculars.  A flash due east in the sunlight caught his attention. 
Jesus Christ, look at them all.  We must’ve only met the tip of their forces back at Cocoa…

“Uh,” he said, his voice cracking.  “There’s a
lot
of them coming this way…”

“Yeah,” was Ted’s faint response.  “I’m putting the drone into auto-pilot.  We need to get the hell out of here.”

Erik focused on the column of boxy vehicles as they trundled toward him on the Holland Expressway.  For the most part, they were dark-green, almost black.  He recognized the angular shape of the BTRs from their earlier skirmish.  The others, low, squat, wide things that looked like tanks without turrets, were a mystery to him.  There were supply trucks, a few things that looked like delivery vans, and even a gaggle of civilian cars.  It was quite the convoy.

“
Got a drone in the air.  Make that two
,” said Pinner’s voice over Erik’s radio.  “
Keep your heads down, sirs.
”

“We’re the only ones out here,” said Ted.  “I don’t see any civvies—they won’t waste a missile on just the two of us.  Just hold still.”

Erik rolled his eyes.
Just hold still.  There’s a goddamn
army
heading straight for us and you tell me to hold still…I never should have joined up.   I should have said goodbye to Ted and Susan and the kids and taken Brin and just headed north.  What was I thinking?

“I know you’re having second thoughts about all this,” Ted said softly.  “Everyone does when they go into combat for the first time.  I know—you think the skirmish yesterday was the first time.  Well, it wasn’t.  That was
nothing
.  I’m telling you, what you’re feeling is normal.  And it will pass.  Just take a deep breath and focus on the mission.”

“Focus on dying, you mean?”  Erik regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Ted was silent for a moment.  “If that’s what it takes to make sure our families are safe—that they have enough time to get to safety, then
yes
, God damn it, focus on making your death count.  Focus on taking out as many of those Russian sons of bitches as you can, on slowing them down as much as possible.  Focus on any fucking thing you want, but
don’t
focus on how much your hands are shaking or how much you’d like to throw up.”  Ted moved up to the edge of the roof and crouched next to Erik behind the facade.  He looked at Erik in the face, his eyes burning.