Lethal Strike Read online

  "Yeah, but this is decades, maybe even centuries ahead of anything we've seen. It doesn't just spring out of nowhere one day."

  "So, you think these things aren't from this planet, is that what you're saying?"

  Ross shrugged but also shook his head.

  "It was talking about this world in terms of conquest, and how little progress we have made in space. I think whoever they are they've come here to conquer us. Not just this country, but the entire world."

  "Whatever it is, we should be on our way. This is gonna draw plenty of attention soon enough," replied Ramos.

  Ross nodded in agreement.

  "All right, fall out. Let's move!"

  Chapter 2

  "We did well today. They all did well," said Ross softly.

  He was kneeling down beside a tree, looking out at a makeshift headstone that had been placed on a fresh grave just into the clearing ahead. Olsen's name was carved into the rock marking the spot. He drew out a hip flask and held it up as a salute to his fallen comrade, taking a small sip before putting it away.

  He could hear enthusiastic voices in the distance as the group celebrated their victory. It was a welcome sound, but it was hard to partake in the festivities. He could hear footsteps approaching from the camp. They were loud, with no attempt to conceal the noise. He didn't feel in danger, but he still looked back to be sure. It was Donny.

  "Thought I'd find you here."

  Ross shrugged.

  "Ramos did nice work on that," he said, pointing to the stone.

  "It's more than some of our friends have gotten in the past."

  "You've had to leave friends behind?"

  "Yep, more than a few times. Not by choice."

  "I get it."

  Ross nodded in agreement, knowing Donny had recently been through the same.

  "Does it ever get any easier to deal with?"

  "Nope."

  "So how do you?"

  "We work. Set our sights on the next target and keep going."

  "That's it? Just keep fighting?"

  "Look, kid, I don't have all the answers. I wasn't made for this."

  "And yet you're doing all right."

  "I'm not sure what all right would even be anymore."

  "You want my take on it?"

  Ross sighed. "Sure."

  "It’s what it is, all of this. No matter how bad. We can't change that. But we are fighting back, and we should celebrate our success."

  "Success? If that officer was right, this is bigger than any of us could have imagined."

  "Isn't every war? You don't have to fight it alone. None of us do."

  "You so sure about that?"

  "There must be others fighting back. I have to believe that. The country can't have fallen. If we were able to make it, others will, too."

  "Maybe, but what does it matter if we're cut off? We might as well be fighting our own little war."

  "Yeah, well that goes both ways. Whoever these assholes are, they can't send everything against one group while so many fight against them."

  Ross' eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was impressed with the young man. That was a perspective he'd not even considered. This was like no war he'd ever fought.

  "It's not easy, you know? Not having anywhere to go. We've been through hell. My team. Sometimes we had to fight our way out of impossible scenarios. Scenarios we never thought we would make it out of. But no matter what, we always had a home to go back to. What do we have now?"

  "I wish I knew. A few weeks ago it seemed like we were on top of the world. Greatest army in the world, untouchable, nobody would ever invade this country. It seemed impossible."

  "Maybe that was our mistake?"

  "What?"

  "To think we were untouchable." He looked at the grave.

  "Nobody could have seen this coming, no way."

  "It doesn't matter now. We have to deal with it. Find some way through, same as any other mission."

  "Except it’s like you said. Any other mission, you fight to get back home. What now?"

  He looked puzzled, as if surprised he had to explain it.

  "We fight to get our homes back."

  "You think that's possible? You've seen what we're facing. I know you've seen a hell of a lot more combat than I have, but this is different."

  "The situation is different. No two missions are the same. We just work through it, same as any other."

  Donny could see he wasn't getting anywhere. Ross seemed distant and even angry at his presence. He got up to leave, but looked back at Ross and the solitude he was facing, even if it was of his making.

  "You should come and join us."

  "Why?"

  "Listen to them," he said as they heard the dull echo of laughter and conversation in the distance.

  "Is that not what we’re doing all this for? What we’re fighting for?"

  Ross shrugged. Donny was right, but he didn't want to admit it.

  "Come on. We did well today. It'd be good to see you celebrate, and they need it."

  "What?"

  "To see you."

  "Why?"

  "Because you’re their leader."

  He was already shaking his head.

  "No, that's not me."

  "You might not like it, but it doesn't make it any less true."

  "Someone else can have the job. Kelly can lead. She's a Major for hell’s sake."

  "But she's not a soldier, is she? You were born and bred for this."

  "To fight, sure, but not to lead."

  "You lead your squad."

  "That's different."

  "Is it? Because I was always taught you had to be capable of taking charge when the need arose. Honestly tell me you can't step in for one of the officers who sent you here in the first place?"

  "Honestly, I can't. I don't know the first thing about how to do their job. I lead soldiers in the field. Elite teams, that's it."

  "Then make us an elite team, and lead us." Donny held out his hand to help Ross up.

  Ross smiled as he was hauled to his feet, surprised to see such a feisty solider almost half his age, pushing him in such a way.

  "You don't give up, do you?"

  "Like I said, this is my town, and I intend to do whatever I have to. If that means leading these people myself, I'll do it. I don't say I'd be any good at it, but I'd still try."

  "I know you would."

  "Don't be too quick to give up on this. This country has been free for hundreds of years, and we aren't about to give it away now."

  Ross smiled, amused by the young man's not so subtle emotional blackmail.

  "So, are you coming?"

  Ross nodded in agreement as they went on towards the camp. As they neared the edge, they heard as much joyful conversation as there was argument. It sounded like every late night bar he'd ever walked into. Someone thrust a glass into his hand. He didn't recognise them, or what it was he'd been given, but he took it anyway. He took a sip and scowled as he tried to swallow without spitting it out. Donny laughed. He’d seen that coming.

  "What the hell is this?"

  "Some kind of moonshine a local farmer makes. Me and my brother used to sneak into his sheds and steal a gallon at a time, but he was on the stuff so often he never noticed."

  "And you kept going back for more?"

  "Tell me it ain't better than nothing?" Donny laughed.

  "How strong is this?"

  "I have no idea, but it ain't weak, that's for sure."

  Lee wandered up to join them. He still had his Kalashnikov slung over his back.

  "You ever gonna take that off?"

  "Sure, Donny, the day we aren't being hunted." He clashed glasses with them. They were drinking in the moonlight. They couldn't risk fires in the night. But the moon provided more than enough. They were all layered up to protect from the cold, but it seemed the moonshine was helping with that, too.

  "You certainly brought these folk together," Lee said to Ross.

  "How
so?"

  "You kidding me? There are some here who'd want each other dead on any other day. Drink at bars on the opposite side of town, if you know what I mean," added Donny.

  "Well, they don't look so happy." Ross pointed to one group on the edge. They were stern and angry-looking, muttering, and arguing amongst themselves.

  "Ignore them. That's the Whitely family," said Donny.

  "So I'm guessing you don't like them all that much?"

  "No one does, except the few rejects that hang out with them," added Lee.

  "Well, if they don't like the rest of you, what will they think of us, coming in here and taking charge?"

  "If I had to guess, I'd say they're pissed," said Donny.

  "That'd be nothing new. They're angry about just about everything."

  "They're a harmless lot," said another who stepped into sight. It was Burns.

  Ross appreciated his take on things. He was far worldlier than anyone else in town, and with a lot more common sense, too. His long service in the Corps cemented the faith he had in him.

  "So what about them, they gonna cause us trouble?"

  "Maybe, but nothing we can't handle."

  Kelly came up to join them. She looked like she was already a good few drinks ahead.

  "Hey, Major, the Master Sergeant here thinks you might want the job of running this rabble."

  "Really, Donny?" She looked to Ross.

  "You’re the ranking officer here. What do you say?"

  "Hell, no. Up there is where I’m the boss." She pointed to the sky and smiled, "I don't know the first thing about leading ground forces, or heading a militia like this. I can barely remember survival training."

  "A militia, is that what we are?"

  "I guess so, Lee," replied Donny.

  "And you think I have what it takes to do that, lead these people?"

  "Without actually saying it, we know what sort of work you did, leading local forces and insurgencies. Training groups like that up, tell me you don't have experience of that?" Kelly asked.

  "Yeah, we've done a few runs like that, but it wasn't under these conditions."

  "What conditions are those?"

  "We've got no backup. No base to work from, or any guarantee of security. We're out here trying to survive."

  "So how is that any different? You must be used to adapting to these scenarios. It's what you are best at, or you wouldn't have this job."

  He looked uneasy.

  "What is it, what is it about working with us that makes you so uneasy?" Lee asked.

  He groaned, knowing he owed them an explanation.

  "When we train local forces to fight, we aren't training them to defend themselves or survive. We’re making them into weapons to go out there to fight, and die."

  "So?"

  "That's a whole lot easier to do when they're people you have nothing in common with on the other side of the world. I'm not saying I liked it, or I wanted any of them to suffer, but I could live with it. But what we have here. American citizens, school kids?"

  "We aren't kids anymore!"

  "Lee's right. When our ancestors rose up against the British, who do you think was out there at the front fighting those battles? Probably kids no older than they are," said Kim.

  "That doesn't make it right."

  "I think we're passed the point of right and wrong. This is live or die," replied Donny.

  He took a deep breath as he tried to calm down. He wished Donny hadn't come to get him. He wasn't in the best of moods as he thought of the loss of Olsen, and that reflected in this conversation.

  "You know what? I get it. I'm not here to stand in your way. You make your own calls. If you want to fight, I'll keep showing you how, but I'm gonna need plenty more from wherever the hell this god-awful stuff came from!"

  Cheers rang out as they celebrated, and someone filled his glass. For a brief while things didn't seem so bad as he looked at the smiles and conversation going on around them. He could finally relax and just roll with it. It wasn't a smart move, not with all the dangers they were facing, but he didn't care anymore. He threw the glass down in one and nearly gagged at how harsh it was. It was like washing down acid. But he smiled and held out his glass for more.

  * * *

  Ross opened his eyes to find his vision blurred and his head pounding. A blanket lay over him where he’d slept under a basha slung between two trees. Arguments were raging around him, confounding his pulsating headache further.

  "Here." Ramos handed him a canteen with water.

  He gladly took it and drank before even thinking of standing up.

  "God what the hell was that stuff?" he asked, swilling his mouth out.

  "Right now, I'd say it's the good stuff," he smiled.

  "What's all that about?" he whispered with a hoarse voice.

  "Few of the locals aren't too happy about any of this."

  "Why would they be?"

  "It's worse than that. They think we've been lying to 'em."

  "Christ." Ross staggered to get to his feet.

  Burns' voice rang out as he tried to calm the crowd down. As Ross got out from the cover of the basha, he realised how severe the situation was. Most of the group were gathered around like an angry mob.

  "I guess they didn't like the moonshine either," he joked.

  "This is serious. They want to leave, head to find help," replied Ramos.

  "Don't they know we already tried that?"

  "I don't think they believe us."

  He could see the Whitely family were the ringleaders of this trouble. That was no surprise after what he'd seen the previous night. But he could do nothing as the mob yelled at Burns.

  "We should get out of here! The town is gone! We should head East!"

  "Listen to me!"

  But they continued to shout over him. Ramos went forward to help, but Ross put out his hand and held him back.

  "You won't do any good. These folks don't want to hear it from us. Would you if the roles were reversed?"

  "Enough!" another voice yelled.

  The high-pitched and yet soft voice of Emma brought them all to silence. All eyes fell on her as she rushed in between Burns and the mob that had formed. They were all curious to hear her out and wary of picking on the young woman.

  "I was the first one in town to encounter these things. An experience I'll never forget. They took my boyfriend, and they took my town. Many of my friends. I've seen what they’re capable of. I don't have all the answers, but I know we’re stronger together. Look what we have achieved already!"

  The oldest of the Whitely family was the first to speak. He was around sixty-years-old and a little overweight. He looked angry and unwavering in his opinions. His sons and friends backing up whatever he had to say.

  "These soldiers mysteriously show up in town at the same time as all this trouble, and we're supposed to believe it's just a goddamn coincidence?"

  "These soldiers helped set you free. Without them, you'd still be in that prison," she pleaded.

  "Maybe without them, there'd never have been a prison!"

  Some of the crowd groaned and cheered in agreement.

  "Who is that?" Ross asked.

  "Chas Whitely, one of the biggest assholes in town," whispered Donny.

  "One of the richest, too," added Lee.

  Emma didn't rise to the fight. She looked past him to address the rest of the crowd, knowing she'd get nowhere with him.

  "I've seen what’s happening here. I know you’re scared, but we've tried to leave town. We've tried to go for help, but it isn't coming. We are on our own here. We can stick together. We can keep fighting to free more of our friends, or we can scatter, and face this alone. I don't want to do that again. I never want to face these things alone, not again!"

  "Not good enough. I'm taking my trucks and going to find some real help!"

  Chas Whitely turned to the crowd to see what support he had, although they seemed to be wavering.

  "Go, and yo
u will die. Stay, and we might just have a chance," said Emma.

  Chas looked furious, as Ross and Burns stepped up either side of her in a show of strength and support he could not contend with.

  "You're a fool. A foolish little girl," he snarled.

  "Better that than a dead idiot."

  Ross couldn't contain his smile, and that made Chas more furious.

  "Enough of this crap. Come on, boys, let's get the hell out of here."

  He and five others grabbed their equipment and headed towards their vehicles that were parked up nearby.

  "We can't let them go," said Burns.

  "We don't have a choice. It's their mistake to make," replied Ross.

  "And if it costs them their lives?"

  "Then that is their price to pay, not ours."

  "Not when we need all the help we can get."

  "That's help we can do without," replied Emma.

  "We lost Olsen saving that asshole."

  Ortiz could never keep his mouth shut.

  "Yes, we did, but we also saved good people, too." Ross looked back at the group. They were shaken and scared. The alcohol was wearing off. The elation of their minor success already fading away, and the loss of Chas and his people a blow they couldn't afford.

  "Fools will be fools," said Ross.

  Chapter 3

  Ross held out an old mess tin and Burns slopped a ladle of stew into it. It didn't look appealing, but it smelt surprisingly good. They both strolled over to a fallen tree, taking a seat beside Kim and Emma.

  "So this is what our lives are now?"

  Ross took a mouth full, but it was so hot he nearly burnt his mouth before spitting it out rather unceremoniously.

  "Sometimes, Emma, you have to roll with whatever life throws at you," he said, trying to get air in to cool his mouth.

  "So that’s the answer. That’s what you usually do?"

  "It’s not like I've ever been in this scenario, but it’s what gets us through pretty much anything."

  "And you think we can get through this?"

  "Not all of us, but I believe some of us will, yes."

  "Don't soften the blow too much," joked Kim.

  "What's the point? Our teachers lie to us every day, and don't prepare us for the real world. It's nice to be given the facts for once," replied Emma.