Standing in the Storm (The Last Brigade Book 2) Page 17

  Pausing for a deep breath, he glanced around to see if he had forgotten anything. That was when he realized a key headquarters component was missing: its commander. Exiting the trailer’s side door, he stepped into the night and found Angriff on the mountain’s edge, puffing a cigar and sipping coffee. Below him to the southwest, the land tailed off into desert, while due west and just over a mile away lay the darkened city of Prescott.

  “General, are you all right?” Schiller picked his steps with care.

  “Over here, Schiller. I’m watching my people at work.”

  “You’ve got better eyes than me, sir.”

  “Hah,” Angriff said, “We both know better than that. Everything ready? Anything I need to do?”

  “Grab a quick nap? It’s going to be a long day.”

  “And we also both know that’s not going to happen.” He pointed toward Prescott, even though in the pitch blackness Schiller could not see him doing it. “I couldn’t sleep if you shot me full of elephant tranquilizer. Because of human greed, I have ordered thousands of fine young men and women into harm’s way, including my own daughter and son-in-law. And it’s inevitable that some of them won’t survive the day. As we speak, Mister Parfist is leading the advance team through those streets. They should be about there right now, and we could get the go signal any time. After that, if everything goes according to plan, we should have those people safely behind our lines within an hour. Then we can surround the city, capture the defenders, and deal with any Chinese who show up.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure that’s what’s going to happen.”

  Angriff raised a skeptical eyebrow, even if Schiller could not see it. “Because plans always survive contact with the enemy, right?”

  0244 hours

  Green Ghost knew that some human experiences are so instinctive they are instantly recognizable. When the yawning guard at the old high school’s main entrance felt coolness on his throat, he went rigid, knowing what the sharp metal edge meant. By reflex he swallowed. The expansion of his throat pushed the blade into his skin, but that light kiss was enough to draw blood. He did not move.

  “Good boy,” Ghost whispered in his ear. “If you do what I tell you, you’ll live to see the sunrise. Is it a deal? If it is, extend your rifle using both hands.”

  With the guard at the doors neutralized, Ghost’s team moved on to the rest of them. One by one the SEALs disarmed, gagged, and zip-tied them all, making so little noise nobody raised an alert. Wingnut found an officer asleep on a table in an office and sent for Green Ghost. The snoring lieutenant awoke to the touch of a silenced pistol barrel between his eyes. He raised his hand to block a blinding light.

  “Get that out of my face!” He swiped at the flashlight but missed.

  “Ssshhh!” said a faint voice. Ghost moved the gun barrel to the man’s forehead and pressed harder. “Be very quiet, unless you’re tired of living. Do you understand?”

  With sparkles filling his vision, the officer nodded.

  “Good. As long as you cooperate, you might live. The people in the building, they’re being traded today, right?”

  Again the man agreed with a nod.

  “You can talk, just not loud. What’s your name?”

  “Lieutenant Wimber.”

  “All right, Lieutenant, are these all the prisoners you’ve got?”

  There was the slightest hesitation, then Wimber said, “Yes, this is all of them.”

  “That’s the one and only lie you get to tell me,” Ghost said. “Do it again, and I put a bullet in your brain. Last warning. Now, where are the others?”

  Richard Parfist stepped back out of the gym. Upon opening the double doors leading to the old basketball court, he’d gagged and almost vomited. One of the SEALs noticed and gave him a small towel to hold over his face. Urine, feces, blood, sweat, unwashed bodies, infection, death… the stench was overwhelming. But he forced himself back inside. The air felt thick, like walking underwater. He stepped over and around the thousands of bodies sprawled in the overcrowded gymnasium. Somewhere in the mass of suffering humanity was his family.

  The blackness was absolute. It was darker than outside, where faint starlight had let their night vision goggles turn night into green-tinted day. People lay on every square inch of floor space. Some were already dead. He placed each step with care, knowing that a startled scream could be catastrophic. Yet he had to hurry, because shooting could break out at any time. If anybody noticed him moving among them, they did not react.

  Precious minutes passed. Recognizing anybody in the eerie green world was almost impossible, even his family. There were people on top of people, heaps of them everywhere.

  Then, like a miracle, he saw the face of his son. Rick was asleep and using someone’s leg as a pillow, but there was no mistaking the long mop of hair and the shape of the face. He felt a rush of panic at how gaunt the boy’s fleshy face had become, stepped over people, and knelt beside him.

  The boy did not wake when Parfist shook him. Stress and the lack of fresh air, food, and water had all drained him of energy. When he did finally open his eyes, all he saw was a distorted shadow with tubes where the eyes should have been. With a yelp he tried to scoot away, but a hand grabbed his ankle and held him in place.

  “Rick,” whispered the bizarre face. “Rick it’s me, Dad.”

  It took a few seconds for the words to make sense. “Dad, is it really you?”

  “Ssshhh,” Richard Parfist said. “It’s me, son, but we’ve got to be quiet, okay? We can’t make any noise. We need to find your mom and sister. Do you know where they are in here?”

  “What’s that on your face?”

  “They let me see in the dark. It’s a long story; I’ll tell you later. Your mom?”

  “They took her, Dad, her and Kayla both. That old man they call the General, he made them go with him, he said they were going to be a present for somebody. What did he mean?”

  If someone had rammed a long knife into his belly, it would not have hurt worse. Parfist sat back on his haunches and said nothing. His son’s words confirmed his greatest fear — his wife and daughter were going to be somebody’s sex slaves, condemned to a life of unending rape.

  “Dad? Are you okay?”

  “Son, I want you to think very carefully before answering this. Did the General say where he wanted your mom and sister taken?”

  “I don’t have to think about it. I remember pretty good—”

  “Well,” Parfist said, as a reflex. “You remember well.” When the words left his mouth, he wondered what that had to do with anything.

  “Sorry, I remember well. He told them to clean Kayla up and take her to his quarters. Mom tried to fight back and they took her, too. She told him that if you were around, you’d gut him like a trout. Then the General laughed and said he hoped he got to meet you.”

  “Oh, he did, did he?” Parfist said. “Then I’ll see that he gets his wish.”

  Chapter 26

  Every moment lost is worth the life of a thousand men.

  Nathan Bedford Forrest

  0258 hours, July 29

  “Green Ghost reports first objective taken. No shots fired. Prisoners are dispersed in two additional locations. They estimate thirty minutes to secure the new objectives. Request evacuation of liberated personnel begin immediately, and confirmation of same.”

  “Damn,” Angriff said. The end of his cigar flared in the dim lighting of his headquarters. “That’s a lot of moving parts… Norm?”

  “I think we trust the man on the spot and go. It is Green Ghost, after all.”

  Scowling, with the cigar sticking out from the side of his jaw, Nick Angriff looked for all the world like Winston Churchill.

  “Go,” he said.

  0258 hours

  The steel bulk of Joe’s Junk cooled on the shoulder of the highway that led into Prescott. The night was quiet but an M1A3 Abrams was not. Operating the tank combined a loud growl with a high-pitched whine. Worse, the tu
rbine engine drank so much fuel that idling might have drained the tanks before the coming day’s combat. The long column of tanks, AFVs, and trucks stretching behind Morgan Randall’s lead vehicle waited for the order to come back to life.

  She stood with her platoon commander, Lieutenant Akio Tensikaya, whose tank was behind hers. First Platoon would lead the way for the rest of Alpha Company, but ROE stated the command vehicle should never take the lead if it was possible to avoid it. So the number two tank, Joe’s Junk, took the point, with Tensikaya following in Eat A Big One.

  Morgan would decide the column’s pace, and whether to keep going or stop, given conditions at the moment. But the critical phrase from her written orders was foremost in her mind: time is of the essence. Once the operation began, speed was critical to the survival of the hostages, and any delay could mean death and disaster.

  Neither of the officers had spoken for several minutes, as there was nothing left to say. Tensikaya stared at the sky, admiring the clear night’s display of stars. Randall imagined forms moving among the houses and buildings ahead, praying they’d secured the route. She did not consider herself paranoid, but in an urban area at night, with enemies around, she was not about to drive into an ambush if she could help it.

  “Lieutenant?” Hank Ootoi leaned out of the gunner’s hatch. “Word up.”

  “Roger that, Toy.” Making a fist, she bumped it with Tensikaya’s.

  “Everybody comes home, Morgan,” he said. “Let’s get this party started.”

  Chapter 27

  Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.

  Marcus Annaeus Seneca

  0259 hours, July 29

  Kayla was snoring, but despite having bathed and eaten, Lisa Parfist couldn’t sleep. She knew what being a gift for a Chinese official meant, and she vowed neither of them would ever be somebody’s sex slave. Her captors were in for a nasty surprise if they tried to take her daughter again. She wasn’t sure what she would do or how she would do it, but she was going to hurt anybody who tried.

  0300 hours

  Richard Parfist knew his family was in the courthouse, and had a good idea where. He had penetrated the General’s lair twice over the years, both times looking for guns or ammunition. He knew where Patton’s quarters were and the overall layout of the building. Taking Rick, Jr., by the hand, he led him outside. Green Ghost stood beside the main entrance, huddled with several soldiers.

  “I found my son,” Parfist said, interrupting Green Ghost, who turned.

  “That’s great, Mr. Parfist, but we’ve got more prisoners to rescue. Do you know where the old YMCA is? Also, there’s supposed to be an old elementary school nearby.”

  “The YMCA is just down this street over here,” he said, stepping out and pointing east. “There’s a couple of fields, I think they used to be for baseball, but now there’s peppers and pumpkins planted there. It’s right behind those. There are a few different buildings that used to be schools, but the closest one is down that way and a little bit west. It’s close. But look, any of these guards can show you where it is. I need you to watch my son for me. My wife and daughter were taken somewhere else, I think to the courthouse we passed. I’ve got to go get them.”

  “Not possible, sir. The trucks are already rolling and before long that whole area may be under fire. I can’t let civilians into a free fire zone. We have multiple weapons systems zeroed on the courthouse, including heavy artillery, and trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near there if we call in arty. You and your son are on the first truck out of here, just like we promised.”

  “The deal was for my family.”

  “And your son is your family, Mr. Parfist. I’m sorry, but that’s how it’s gotta be.”

  “And I’m sorry, too, Lieutenant, but you’re going to have to shoot me to stop me.”

  He darted into the night and headed for the crumbling football stadium just to the south. Rick started to follow, but a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him. With every step, Parfist expected to hear a shot. When he reached the ruined stands and ducked behind a jagged sheet of metal, he paused to gulp a few breaths. In a low voice he said, “Take care of my son for me, Green G. I’ve got to do this. I hope you understand.”

  Standing in the doorway, Green Ghost watched him go without raising his rifle. He had said what he had to say, and Parfist did what he had to do. It was exactly what the Ghost himself would have done.

  Lester Hull inspected himself in the large mirror beside his bed. He was the only person in the Republic of Arizona who could use electric lamps for his own purposes. Of three working generators in the Republic, two powered his headquarters and one his personal rooms. Worn out and balky, with lightbulbs scarce, Hull rationalized their use on a day like today, when he had to look his best for the Chinese.

  His personal weapon was a replica Colt Peacemaker which he wore on his right hip, just like the man he imitated. Ivory grips weren’t available anywhere in the Republic, despite a rigorous and systematic search. But his uniform was clean and pressed. Although made from mismatched pieces, he still wore his officer’s hat from fifty years ago. The five stars across the front he had crafted from the bottom of a coffee can decades before. It looked sharp.

  Satisfied, he nodded to his reflection and stepped into the hallway. There were guards on either side of his door and he spoke to the one on the left.

  “Bring me the girl and her mother.”

  Chapter 28

  A wraith in the wind, a wisp in the night,

  The trace of a dream, a whisper of fright.

  Scrap from an incomplete Viking epic

  0311 hours, July 29

  Within minutes, Parfist neared the courthouse. Despite it being Patton’s headquarters, and the barracks for his LifeGuards, he knew of a way in. At the back was a window with a busted lock. Once inside, he knew where to find Patton’s rooms.

  A few had suspected an intruder’s presence in Prescott, but although he’d roamed the streets for years, nobody had ever spotted him. No one dreamed that somebody would try to break into the fortified courthouse, so nobody noticed him cross the street. He crawled through the overgrown greenery at its rear and raised the broken window. Candles and lanterns lit the building, but the ambient lighting remained dim. Few people seemed to be awake at that hour.

  Parfist had once overheard a conversation between some guards that told him Patton lived on the ground floor. The General worried about getting out in the event of a fire, they’d said. So he moved through the corridors like a shadow, with the stealth of someone who’d crept among his enemies for decades without their knowing it. When he saw two guards flanking a door at the far end of a long hallway, he knew it had to be Patton’s room. But what could he do now that he’d found it? How could he get there with those two in the way? Time was passing and the sounds of the first vehicles moving into town could not be far away.

  Movement at the door. Parfist pressed into a dark corner. The door to Patton’s room opened and the General himself stepped out. He spoke to one of the guards and went back inside. The guard immediately headed down the hall toward him. Parfist clutched his knife and wondered if he could kill the man without the other noticing. But two doors from where Parfist stood, the guard went into a room on the left. For a moment there was silence, then came the sound of voices, one a man’s, and the other a woman’s. Lisa’s.

  He slipped in behind the guard. He passed through a large empty room, but the voices came through a door on his right. Parfist saw the guard standing in the doorway, his rifle pointing at Kayla, who sat in a chair crying. Lisa Parfist stepped in front of her daughter, and now the gun pointed at her chest.

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” she said. In her hand was a shard of jagged wood wrenched from a chair that lay shattered in the corner. “Not until you kill me first.”

  “Lady,” the guard said, raising his rifle and aiming at her face, “nothing would make me happier than to blow your fucking head
off. And if you and your daughter don’t come with me right now, maybe I’ll get to do just that.”

  “You’re a tough man when you’re holding a gun on a girl and her mother. If my husband was here, you wouldn’t be smiling like that.”

  “Yeah, somebody heard you say that earlier. We all got a laugh out of it,” he said. “So where is he? Why isn’t he here? I’ll bet he’s hiding in a cave, pissing all over himself.”

  The guard heard a whisper in his right ear and felt something sharp at the base of his neck.

  “Or maybe he’s right behind you,” Richard Parfist said. Before the guard could react, he shoved the blade hilt deep into his throat, severing the vocal chords. The man fell to his knees, gasping and thrashing. Parfist finished him with a second thrust through the eye. Covered in blood, he knelt and grabbed the man’s rifle, yanking the belt with extra ammo from around his waist. When he stood up, his wife seemed stunned by the gory apparition in the doorway.

  “I never thought I’d see or hear you again.” She buried her cheek in his chest despite the blood. Kayla ran over and hugged them both.

  “We’ve got to go, right now,” he said. “There’s a fight coming and we don’t want to be around when it gets here.”

  “A fight? With who, the Chinese? And what is that around your neck? And those clothes?”