World of Ashes II (31 page)

              Daniel shook her hand. Keep it professional for now, he thought. “Well, thank you very much for working with me on this. I wanted my guys to have something good to look back on when we’re outside. It’s going to be a long fight.” He made an effort not to look at her tits.

              Hallstead nodded. “The longest. And it’s only going to get worse the longer the Rebel States refuse to cooperate with us. It makes a united front against the plague a fantasy.”

              “A hundred years from now, whether we win or lose, someone’s going to look back on this point in history and wonder, why didn’t we just stay the course?” Daniel added, almost finishing Hallstead’s sentence.

              “Exactly.” Lt. Hallstead turned her attention to one of the crates being offloaded, apparently it was fragile, but then back to Daniel while he dumped his gear in a corner. Seems she was interested in the conversation and not in the business at hand. “The first plague victims that were locked up in quarantine are already showing signs of a diminished ability to hunt for a fresh host. We’re only a year or two away from them rotting completely.”

              “How’s that tested?” Daniel opened his canteen and drank. He actually liked water.

              Looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, Hallstead leaned in closer. She smelled like lilacs. “When your little camping trip is over, maybe I can arrange a tour of the facility, that is if General Brown hasn’t shown you already.”

              Restraining the urge to say something cheesy, like
it could be our little camping trip
, Daniel settled for something more becoming. “I’m genuinely interested, Miss Hallstead. Any insight you or the Air Force could provide for my unit would save lives. It’s my goal to bring as many people home alive as I can, I’d be a fool to pass up on a chance to learn something.”

              Hallstead couldn’t help but smile now. Her rank and position probably kept most men from reaching that high, but Daniel Sawyer knew no such bounds now. “I’ll make it happen.” She agreed almost too quickly.

              “Speaking of making something happen.” Daniel turned to his approaching platoon sergeant, “Are the men ready to be formed up?”

              “Yessir.” He saluted Hallstead as he approached. “I still haven’t told them what’s up, Sir. They think we’re guarding an Air Force summer camp.”

              “Oh good.” Daniel smiled to the new apple of his eye. He wanted to say
watch this
, but he didn’t have to, she already was. He approached the platoon and called them to attention. With a scowling face he inspected four or five random Soldier’s uniforms, said nothing, but corrected a few things himself. Then started calling the commands every member of the US Army hates to hear. The signifier your day is about to fucking suck. “Half right… Face! Front leaning rest position…” The tension mounted, the men and women readied themselves to get sand and dirt in places they’d never get it out of again when suddenly Daniel said, “Belay that. Half left, Face. Enjoy the weekend, guys. Here’s Sergeant Kemper with your routine, informative, pre-canned Weekend Safety Brief.” He said, unzipping his uniform top and walking off just as quickly as he’d come, leaving his men as bewildered as they were happy.

              He could hear the Army tradition of wasting everyone’s Friday afternoon by reminding them of things they already knew, don’t drink and drive cars you no longer have access to, don’t have sex with married people, always wrap your tool, etc etc. Staff Sergeant Kemper had some pretty good sermons, and both officers found themselves listening in.

“Shut up, all of you. This is the only time I have a captive audience, so I’m gonna enjoy it. I’d like to begin with the standard issue don’t drink and drive, don’t commit a crime, don’t stray more than two miles from the bivouac, and lastly don’t violate the Army Values, Hooah?” The real Soldiers responded with the appropriate battlecry, the draftees mostly a mumble of understanding. “As for the personal note, don’t screw your friends, and don’t screw your friend’s friends. Don’t screw someone you’re not married to, or don’t plan to be married to shortly. Don’t screw someone who’s married to someone else either. Can’t believe I have to say that one. Don’t get drunk and flip off any officers, and lastly don’t do drugs… but if you do, remember to share with the whole class.” Kemper called them to attention and dismissed the platoon. Somehow he managed to be the first one in the lake despite being on the opposite side of the group of Soldiers when he dismissed them.

              As the evening wore on dinner chow was served like a buffet, just trickle in and eat what and when you wanted. Daniel took the distraction to convince the bus drivers that everyone who was going back to town was already on the buses, and just like that he had the whole night to convince Lieutenant Kelly Hallstead that he was the man she wanted to pay attention to. Granted, she was mildly upset that she wouldn’t be sleeping in her own bed tonight, but Daniel played it off as no big deal and invited her into the “Tactical Operations Center” where the radio was.

              “I have a cell phone, there’s no need to use a radio to call the buses.” She said, putting her hands on her hips. Not many women could make fatigues look good, and she was certainly the minority.

              “I wasn’t planning to call the buses, but thanks for telling me I get cell service out here. Gonna make some prank calls to Rambo’s personal phone later.” He smiled and keyed in the Company Headquarters. After his third time saying, “Valhalla Base this is Valkyrie Six, respond,” Captain Rambo’s overnight office aid finally answered with a simple and almost annoyed sounding
Go Ahead
. “Valhalla Base, is Thor Six available?”

              “
Negative, um… break… Valkyrie Six, is your unit ready to move?”

             
Daniel raised an eyebrow, “Negative, Valhalla Base. Our transport has already left.”

              “
Valkyrie Six, gear up and unbox emergency readiness kits. Standby for coordinates, break, prepare for imminent attack at the following... N41.19 by W104.89. Outbreak Protocol is in effect.”

              “Shit!” Hallstead flipped the white light lantern next to the radio to red and handed it to a nearby Soldier, “Raise the alarm, Viral outbreak, everyone gear up. Noise Discipline is an order!”

              “Yes, Ma’am!” He said, running outside and shouting to anyone who could hear. No sirens were activated, those were zombie magnets and wouldn’t be used except for a decoy.

              Daniel had his riot gear on before Hallstead was done giving the orders to virtually panic. He made a split second decision and gave her his shield. It had spikes at the top for dropping the shield down on top of a Vic’s head and he told her how to use it quickly. Before he zipped up the tent and rant to his men, Lieutenant Hallstead grabbed Daniel and kissed him like you’d see in the romance movies or a sweeping war epic.

              “It’s for luck, don’t get ahead of yourself.” She said quickly, pushing him out of the tent.

              Already the men were throwing their riot gear on, some while wearing nothing but boxers, and forming their triangular battle line. The main generators were switched off and the floodlights that would illuminate the battlefield were aimed at the nearby coordinates. With hundreds of trailer parks and temporary housing in the area, that an outbreak might occur was just a matter of time rather than theory. Deep inside, everyone was waiting for this moment.

              Daniel found SSgt Kemper, who had magically gotten his uniform on in inspection worthy condition in mere seconds. “Fire watch has NVG’s on the East valley. Reports at least fifty contacts making their way toward us.”

              “Make sure everyone who might be itching to get the first kill knows, that if they shoot before I give the order,
they
will be the first kill I
promise.
” Kemper had been in the first clusterfuck with Daniel and voiced similar feelings about people breaking the formation. There should be no reason these tactics wouldn’t work against an unarmed enemy. No, scratch that, most of them still had arms. Those weren’t as easy to gnaw off as one might think.

              Kemper returned and had what looked like an Xbox remote in his hand. “Air Force has some bitchin’ toys, Sir. Watch this shit.” That was one of the most dangerous things any American Soldier has ever said, possibly followed closely by any 2
nd
Lieutenant saying “In my experience.” A nearby Hummer H2 painted in an adorable AF digital pattern and enough antenna to communicate with the moon, a package that must have cost the American Tax Payers millions, turned on remotely. It revealed an automated turret with a chain gun mounted to a variety of cameras. SSgt Kemper pulled down a headset that clipped onto a helmet he’d had to “borrow” from the Airman originally assigned and trained to use it, and started playing his new favorite video game.

              “Contacts at three hundred meters. No body-heat, no quick movements.” Kemper offered the first shot to Daniel, but he declined. “Permission to engage, Sir?”

              Daniel keyed his radio. “Valkyrie Six to Valhalla Base. Viral Threat at previously established coordinates: India Three through Seven, strength at battalion level, no heat signatures between unit location and targets. Permission to engage, Over.”

              The response was immediate, and thank God it was Major Sharp this time, back from his assignment to save the day. “
Valkyrie Six this is Odin Actual. Permission to engage granted. Clear the board, Lieutenant.
”

              “Don’t let those fucking Vics within a hundred meters of my camp, Sergeant.” Daniel ordered with a confident tone, propping the radio mike on his Kevlar. “Send it.”

Daniel barely heard SSgt Kemper say “On the Way!” before the minigun burped out an uninterrupted stream of depleted uranium and flaming tracers. The Vics melted like plastic army men in a microwave, tracers igniting chest cavities and rotting clothes between popping gory looking flesh-balloons.

              “Hold fire.” Daniel had a thought. “How much ammunition do we have for this thing?”

              “Beats me, Sir.” Kemper responded, trying to hide his erection from using the gun.

“Let’s assume it’s not a lot. I’m going to send Second Squad out to draw their attention back into a center stream. We’ll start stacking bodies at the hundred meter line and fall back toward the far side of the lake if we need to. I’m redirecting Third to keep our line of egress open. First and the mini-gun will stand here. We can use the floodlights while Second goes down into the firing line to tag those motherfuckers, but we’ll have to turn them off on their way back or they’ll be night-blind.” It was a lot to take in, a lot of different orders that would have to go out, but Kemper had his shit together and in no time was running with Second Squad down range while the other NCO’s held their lines. Third Squad’s sharp shooters were picking off Vics with infrared sights, three or four muzzle flashes at a time on the right flank as they kept up a methodically devastating rate of fire.

Watching through a rifle mounted infrared scope, Daniel saw SSgt Kemper and a few other Soldiers who could run the fastest go right up to the first group of about a dozen rotters and literally tag them on the foreheads with as many IR* stickers as they could. This was daring, kinda stupid if you really thought about it, but brilliant in that now they had a clear marker for support aircraft and anyone wearing NODs to know where the badguys were. Once Second had made their bounding movement back to the line it was two squads of expert riflemen versus the horde of zombies. One side didn’t stand a chance, and it wasn’t Daniel’s.

The Vics tagged with infrared stickers were allowed as close as the twenty meter line before being cut down, every other freezer-burned looking skeleton in the group was turn to rotting waste behind them. The stragglers of the group, those who seemed almost unmotivated to walk to their own slaughter, were picked off by the turret mounted mini-gun. A single solid line was formed by the men, and 1stVR swept the battlefield with blades and pistols for any that might be crawling around like so many large cockroaches.

Sgt. Weldon came running up to Daniel and Kemper, holding a dirty looking shirt with blackened blood stains on it. “Sir, these Vics are old. This can’t be a fresh outbreak.”

“Are they all like that?” Kemper asked, mild shock turning quickly to disappointment and disgust for a variety of reasons.

“Yes, Sarn’t. Not a freshy among them. Forgive me, Sir, but I thought the perimeter of the Cheyenne Complex was more heavily guarded than the Korean DMZ. How could a group this size make it through?”

“They couldn’t, Sergeant. Very astute, I expected nothing less from any of you.” Major Sharp said, stepping out from an Air Force truck no one had paid any mind to. Sharp keyed his radio. “Odin Six to Warren Range Control.”

“
Range Control, go ahead.
” The radio chirped.

“Index Live Fire Exercise ‘
Round Top.’
”

“
Copy index of Live Fire Exercise
,
support teams standing down. CentCom requests report at earliest convenience.
”

Sharp hadn’t broken eye contact with Daniel the entire time. “No friendly casualties, minimal resources consumed. ZQRF is returned to Green status.” He let go of the radio for the final time. “Good work, Lieutenant. Your men performed brilliantly.”