Oscar Mike – Chapter Two
In such dangerous things as war the errors which proceed from a spirit of benevolence are the worst.
-General Karl von Clausewitz
A single, piercing light shone from the roof. A series of relief maps were spread across the table. And all around, the noise of reports coming through on the vehicles many comms. Standing in the open hatch, Haynes listened to it all as he peered to the horizon. Daylight was beginning to break over his troop’s positions, those that were camped out in the fields and the rest that were busily advancing their way towards their objectives.
And they were his troops now. He took great joy in that thought. After being fractured and confused during the course of their withdrawal, they were once again moving as one, confident in themselves as well as their commander. And every way he looked, he could spot elements that were on the move.
To the west, Second Battalion was making its way along the route into the left bank of town. To the east, First Battalion – his old command – was moving into the township of Sombrillo and sweeping for incursions. In the center, directly north of his command post, was the Battalion Combat Team, who’s armored columns rolled along the highway like a metal fist, driving straight into the heart of the engagement.
He could hear the faints pops of rifle and MG fire. Here and there, troops were reporting contacts with Whiskeys and taking them out. Before and after each sound, the comms would come alive with the report of “contact”, followed shortly thereafter with a “tango down”. Another thing he took joy in, the tightening of discipline that was evident in the action reports. Yes, there was little they could not accomplish when they simply followed orders!
That last thought disturbed his buoyant mood. Despite the absence of the former Lieutenant, he still had many troublemakers to contend with. For the life of him, he could not understand why Thur had trusted them to the extent he had. But then again, sentimentality was a particular soft spot for that man. How he should have known better. Such things simply weren’t useful or safe in the world they now inhabited.
But he dared not think of such things now. Not when the man was still straddling the fine line between life and death. The best he could do now was to try and fulfill his role and maintain the command, for as long as he held it. To do any less would be worse than dereliction, it would be weakness.
He raised the binoculars again and scanned to the east. In the township of Sombrillo, which resembled a medieval-walled city from this distance, he could see units from Second’s Charlie Company moving about. Finished with targeting Whiskeys in the streets, they now began searching from house to house, alerting the residents of their arrival and inviting them to declare themselves.
In certain cases, where no one was to be found; or worse, Whiskeys had found there way in, things went a little differently. Here and there, he could see muzzle flashes in the windows, illuminating the interiors and signalling the death of another infected. Never more than a few shots were fired from house to house, and then the troopers responsible appeared in the doorway and moved onto the next house.
Like finely tuned clockwork. And the reports kept coming in. It wasn’t long before the Company CO called it in, declaring that the town had been cleared of hostiles, giving a head count on how survivors they had found and many infected they’d killed. From the command vehicle, Captain Dubrovinsky relayed it to him.
“General, C-Company, 2nd Battalion reporting from objective area. Two-hundred plus survivors, two dozen Whiskeys down.”
“Excellent, Captain,” he replied. “Order C-Company to secure area and hold position until further orders. Dispatch medical crews to inspect survivors.”
“Yes, sir. Relaying orders now.”
Haynes went back to surveying the scene as his underlings carried out their orders. By now, the BCT and First Battalion was entering the heart of Espanola, moving from the US 84 onto the town’s main strip that ran north along the river. He could recall the last time they had pushed up this way, just a few weeks previous; back when the enemy had been something other than the lumbering ghouls they knew as the Whiskeys. That enemy had been somewhat more stubborn in their resistance, but even they had been forced to retreat when the hordes had closed in on the valley from all sides…
What followed was something he would be happy to forget. His first time at the helm, and he had been forced to order a general retreat. They were within a hair’s reach of total victory, of defeating the regular Army forces that had hit them just that morning and retaking every inch of the town. How quickly victory had turned into defeat! But that didn’t matter now. Not when they were in the process of righting that wrong.
Amidst the squat structures and trees that dotted the township, it became harder to see his armored vehicles and troop carriers as they fanned out to take their objectives. But he could sense them at work, and could hear from the unending trickle of reports how they were fairing.
One by one, the designated zones were declared clear after some sporadic fire.
“Zulu Romeo Sierra clear.”
“Zulu Sierra Charle clear.”
“X-ray Romeo Foxtrot -”
The last report was clipped as the sound of a loud shriek cut across the landscape. Haynes caught sight of a fireball in the distance and heard the loud thunderclap that followed. He quickly raised his binoculars, but could see little other than a raging fire and plume of black smoke. He caught minor glimpses of his troops running about and the vehicles pulling madly away from the highway. But no indications of what had happened. The reports coming in behind him were more clear, but not at all encouraging.
“-blue on blue! I say again, we have blue on blue with un-ID’d unit! Please advise!”
Dubrovinsky was hurriedly asking for clarification as Haynes came to the back door. He looked from the Captain to Lieutenant Walker, who pouring over their maps. All he got from the latter was a confused look, and an equally confused report from the Captain once he was finished on the horn.
“General, Battalion Combat Team is reporting friendly fire along State Road 68.”
“We have no units in that area, sir!” the Lieutenant said, objectionably. “This can’t be a case of blue on blue.”
“How do I advise, General?”
Haynes face drew into a tight frown and he felt like spitting. His mouth formed the words, “son of a bitch”. The Captain was busy repeated his request for instructions when Haynes grabbed the mike from him.
“Bushmaster One, this is Rattlesnake Actual. What is the location of the enemy fire team, over?”
The BCT Commander was a second in coming back. Hearing that the fire was coming from an enemy team clearly caused him a moment’s pause. When he replied, he sounded rather irate. “Rattlesnake Actual, the fire team is located on the roof of the pharmacy building overlooking objective X-Ray Romeo Foxtrot. Enemy appears to be using Alpha Tango Fours and has taken out a Mike One-Zero-One Bravo.”
“Shit,” Haynes lowered the mike and looked back in the direction of town. He could see the black smoke rising, and heard the multiple reports of gunfire erupting from several positions. Aside from being a main objective, the intersection where the fighting was now going down was the key to retaking Espanola – the point where it’s east-west axis crossed the main north-south running road. And the enemy had not only managed to hold it amidst the Whiskey incursion, but was now defending it.
He keyed the mike again. “Bushmaster One, you have made contact with elements hostile to our forces. Pull your team back and regroup and prepare for fire mission.”
The BCT commander replied a second later. “Roger that, Rattlesnake Actual. Combat Team pulling back.”
Haynes handed the mike back to Dubrovinsky and pointed his finger in the man’s face. “Captain, get on the horn with the one-hundred and fiftieth. Tell the Colonel we need a Spectre on station to provide air support immediately.”
“General, what about the fuel situation?”
“Fuel discipline will have to be lifted for the time being,” he said unhappily. “Now raise Iswolski now and relay the following coordinates.”
The Captain nodded obligingly and jotted down the numbers given to him. Haynes knew he was right. After all the materiel losses they’d suffered in the past few weeks, they simply couldn’t afford to be putting birds in the air right now. But he would be damned if the traitorous fuckers from back east would stall his operation any longer. And he was not about to risk the lives of any more personnel to dislodge them.
The Captain handed the mike to the General a moment later. From their airbase in Santa FE, The voice of Colonel Iswolski streamed through the radio box.
“Roger that, Rattlesnake Actual. We have an Alpha Charlies One-Thirty prepping now and will airborne in five mikes.”
Haynes nodded, feeling a sense of calm reassurance once again. He looked in the direction of town once more. Within minutes, they could forward to some air support and the main column of their advance could get moving again. Meanwhile, if any more enemy troops turned up, they would have some serious firepower on station to provide overwatch and a decisive edge. None of the bastards would survive!
In the meantime, First and Second continues in their advance east and west of the main strip. In time, he expected they would be able to account for all the outlying districts and those people still huddled in their homes. And if luck was on their side, and there were few pockets of human resistance to speak of left, they would have the town secured by the afternoon.
All that was needed was no more surprises…
