Sloan managed to conceal the surge of relief that he felt. Mac was alive! He cleared his throat. “Please give me some background on each person who died. I will write letters to their families.”
McKinney nodded. “Yes, sir. That will mean a lot.”
Sloan turned to Kip. “So where did you stash the general? And how is the interrogation going?”
“He’s at Fort Knox,” Kip replied. “And he wants to cut a deal. Negotiations are under way. But, regardless of how that turns out, we know that the abduction was a blow to Mexican morale. In fact, it looks as if the snatch, plus the impact of the storm, were largely responsible for the pullback.”
“Sweet,” Sloan said. “That makes sense. If you’re a foot soldier, and the enemy can snatch a general, what does that say about your chances? What’s the second item you have for me?”
“It’s related to the first,” Kip replied. “President Stickley relieved Confederate General Bo Macintyre of his duties and named an admiral to replace him. The announcement was made immediately after the Ramos abduction, so the two events could be related. Macintyre was at the front. So, when the pullback began, it’s possible that he made a convenient scapegoat.
“But,” Kip continued, “regardless of the reason, imagine the fallout! A replacement was named, the command structure was severely disrupted, and all of Macintyre’s standing orders had to be reviewed. All while running a war.
“The whole episode is extraordinary,” Kip added. “So much so that our analysts wonder if there was another reason for Macintyre’s dismissal. Did he have one hand in the till? Was he having sex with an underage girl? Time will tell.”
“That’s amazing,” Sloan said. And it was amazing. Especially given the roles that Mac and her father had played in the campaign. But there were more important things to focus on.
“Supplies,” Sloan said. “Let’s talk about supplies. Can the navy help us? How strong are the rebel defenses at Port Arthur? Could we capture it? And bring supplies in by sea?” The discussion began.
NEAR CENTERVILLE, LOUISIANA
The rain was falling, and the MRAP shuddered each time a gust of wind hit it. But as the eye of the storm passed over, conditions had improved.
It was getting late by the time the convoy cleared the spillway and made its way onto Highway 90. Thanks to the combined effects of the storm and the war, they had the much-abused road to themselves. The convoy couldn’t travel at night, however. Both the civilians and Mac’s soldiers were bone tired.
So as Mac spread the map out in front of her, she was looking for a place to laager up. And the logical choice was the town of Centerville, which lay near the intersection of Highways 317 and 90. “Take the next right,” she ordered. Then Mac turned to Green. “Warn the other drivers.”
Brown made the turn, and it wasn’t long before a school appeared on the left. “Turn into the parking lot,” Mac ordered.
Brown did as he was told, and the rest of the vehicles followed. The parking lot was large enough to accommodate two convoys. As soon as all of the trucks were in off the highway, Mac put Road-Runner-Three on standby while she got out to look around.
Normally, with a company of Strykers, Mac would have put some space in between them. A measure calculated to reduce the amount of damage that an exploding truck could cause to neighboring vehicles. But with no enemy aircraft to worry about, and only twenty soldiers available to guard the perimeter, Mac decided to keep the convoy’s footprint as small as possible. So she ordered the drivers to park their vehicles side by side in two columns of three.
Because the school buildings were located on the north side of the lot, Mac used the Cougar to protect the convoy’s east flank and placed the Stryker to the west. That left the Humvee to guard the driveway. Then it was time to set the watch schedules, listen to the drivers bitch about it, and let the Operation Pushback staff know where the convoy was.
The night passed uneventfully—for which Mac was grateful. As for the weather, that was a little worse but still better than it had been twenty-four hours earlier.
The convoy was ready to pull out when Lieutenant Carey’s voice was heard on the TAC frequency. “Hold on… All vehicles will remain where they are. Major? Please join me at the Humvee.”
Mac was struck by the junior officer’s tone. Carey sounded much more confident than she had back in New Orleans, and that was a good thing. “What’s up?” Mac inquired as she arrived at the Humvee.
“Follow me,” Carey said, and led Mac out to the point where the driveway met the road. Some traffic cones were located there… And, judging from the presence of a backhoe, a drainage project was under way. But what immediately caught Mac’s attention were the footprints in the mud—and the flat spot located at the center of them. A flat spot with gravel sprinkled on top. That suggested the presence of a mine! Or an IED. Mac produced a low whistle. “Wow. Nice work, Lieutenant.”
“The credit goes to Corporal Ito,” Carey replied. “He brought it to my attention.”
Mac was impressed. Ito wasn’t present, and it would have been easy for Carey to take credit for the discovery. “I’ll thank him,” Mac said. “But you took his input seriously. Keep it up, Lieutenant. I’m impressed.” Carey beamed.
Mac took a look around. She didn’t want to deal with the explosives; nor did she need to. There was plenty of room to drive around the spot. We’ll swing wide, Mac concluded. In case the actual charges are to the right or left of the suspicious area.
Problem solved. But the episode raised a question: Had local resistance fighters spotted the convoy? And planted the explosives? Or had they been invited to do so? Mac remembered what Colonel Prevus had told her regarding the civilian drivers. “Any one of those bastards could be a rebel agent or a resistance fighter! So keep a close eye on them.”
“Make a warning sign,” Mac ordered. “And place it in front of the mine.”
The convoy departed fifteen minutes later by driving across a section of lawn onto the road that led to Highway 90. Franklin was only a fifteen-minute drive to the west. Mac wasn’t surprised to see that a major battle had taken place on and around the highway. Shell craters and wrecks forced the MRAP to snake in and out. Had mines been planted there, too? If so, the Cougar would set them off and clear a path for the big rigs. Or so Mac hoped.
As Brown guided the Cougar through the maze, Mac saw lots of burned-out vehicles, most of which were Mexican. And that made sense. Because without air assets to protect them, the Mexican tanks and armored cars had been severely outgunned.
It hadn’t been a completely one-sided affair, however, since one Abrams continued to burn as they passed by it, and the enemy had been able to take out some Bradleys and Strykers as well. So where were the combatants? There was nobody to be seen as the convoy passed Franklin. Perhaps the Mexicans had been forced to fall back during the night.
Mac liked that from a strategic point of view. But her job was to link up with the 32nd. And to do so before the outfit ran out of supplies. That was going to be difficult so long as the unit continued to push west.
Half an hour later, the convoy arrived at the cutoff for Jeanerette and the checkpoint that had been established there. It consisted of a Bradley and a squad of infantry. A sergeant was in charge. He claimed that the new front was located approximately twenty-five miles ahead, just short of New Iberia. “That’s where the tacos are making their stand,” the noncom said with a grin and waited for Mac to laugh. She didn’t. There was nothing funny about what the Mexicans had been able to accomplish.