Eddie knew if he surrendered they were all dead. He didn’t see any way he could talk his way out of this one. He had too much explaining to do, and the people he was working for didn’t care enough to listen. The army had no use for deserters or troops with their own agenda, however valid it may be. Add in that he’d killed the four Qi Jia men back by Hot Springs and there was no other way out of this. Too late to turn back now, Eddie knew his next action would change everything for himself and his men. They were about to go from the hunters to the hunted, from the predators to the prey.
He ordered rockets to be fired at the helicopters. The split second the rockets were fired he wanted his troops out of the trucks. The rocket from the back jeep found its target on the helicopter behind them. That chopper countered with two rockets before it disintegrated into flames, one rocket taking out a truck still full of men, the other taking out a jeep of men. The rocket fired at the front chopper missed its mark, and that helicopter fired eight missiles off before another rocket took it down. The helicopter’s projectiles hit their mark, reducing six jeeps and another truck to scrap metal and flames, but taking much less of a toll on the captain’s men. With two trucks and seven jeeps gone, that left Eddie and his remaining thirty-one men with a single truck and five jeeps.
The ensuing ground combat ended in Eddie’s favor, but cost him eleven more men. Before he died, one of the helicopter troopers was kind enough to tell Eddie a hundred troops were on their way from Hot Springs. Eddie thanked him. Then he shot him.
Eddie, Lazzo, and their last twenty men climbed into the remaining jeeps and raced off as a long trail of distant headlights appeared behind them. It was forty-five miles to Lusk, Wyoming, then another 150 miles to Cheyenne. He had heard over the stolen radio two more Blackhawks were heading their way from Casper to meet up with the troops behind him. The Americans ahead of him were safe for now. He had to worry about his own men.
THIRTY-THREE: (Ryan) “Battle of Cheyenne”
We had also seen the lights approaching in the sky behind us. The two big red dots had appeared on the radar screen and zoomed in on our location. We figured we were done for. Out here there was nowhere to hide, and it being the first time we’d seen any aircraft at night, we figured the dots were connected to either Eddie or the dots we’d seen in Hot Springs and were definitely coming for us. Danny ordered us all off the road as he and Cameron set themselves up to defend as best they could from the limited cover of a roadside railroad trestle. Then we saw the hovering lights turn back and head the other direction. A few minutes later, we heard a couple of giant explosions. What the heck? Who were they attacking? Were these American helicopters? Were they attacking Eddie and his men? If they were Americans, where did they come from? Did we still have a base somewhere nearby?
No matter who they were, they apparently weren’t here for us, and by the look of things the helicopters hadn’t fared so well in the attack. We never saw them again. Even if they were Americans, it looked like they’d lost. But they had succeeded in buying us a little more time. That was all Danny needed to urge us on. We raced to, and through, Lusk. Figuring whoever was following us would take the interstate, Danny decided to go the slightly longer way down 85.
As we didn’t see anyone on radar or in the sky for the next two hours, Danny was confident he’d wagered correctly. Now, as we approached Cheyenne, Danny didn’t know what he should do. Thus far, we’d dodged every main city, particularly those with large airports or military bases. It made sense to do the same here. He led us in an eastern loop around Cheyenne and, just as we were about to head south on 85, the skies over Cheyenne filled with explosions.
We could see more aircraft circling the city, guns blazing and rockets firing, and we watched as two more helicopters went down. They had to be Americans! “Guys,” Danny said to Wes, Cameron, Dad and I, who had climbed out of the vehicles to watch with him. “We may be safe. I think those are our Blackhawks.” It was either that, or the Blackhawks were firing on Americans. Either way, Danny couldn’t just sit ten miles away and do nothing. The first attack he was willing to dismiss. With a second one within a few hours of the other, he had to find out what was going on. But he couldn’t leave the rest of us defenseless.
We all had gathered around to hear his plan. “Okay.” He took a deep breath, not sure even he liked his idea. “I have to find out what’s going on. But I can’t take the chance of bringing all of you into the city with me. I’m going to take Blake and Nathan with me.” He pointed at the two men from Medora. “We’ll try to figure out what’s going on. Cameron, you are going to take everyone else to that Horseface Reservoir outside Fort Collins where you and I went fishing two summers ago. Remember that abandoned mine on the north side where we got out of that freak hail storm?”
Cameron nodded. “I think you mean Horsetooth Reservoir. But yeah, I remember.”
“Okay.” Danny disregarded the correction. “Get everyone there. Stay out of the towns and go the back way around.”
No one responded vocally, but Dad was shaking his head and Cameron was looking down, digging the toe of his boot in the dirt. None of us liked the idea of splitting up.
“Look, guys.” Danny continued, sensing our collective discomfort with the idea. “It’s only forty miles to the reservoir. If we have to hightail it out, we will, and we’ll get there quickly… well before dawn. We’ll be fine. I—”
“Don’t promise.” I cut him off. I hate it when they say “I promise” in movies. “Just do it.” I looked at my watch. It was close to midnight now.
“I think you need another gun with you, Danny,” Wes said, volunteering.
“I’ll stay,” I spoke up.
“Ryan,” Tara objected.
I looked at her, surprised. She said my name.
“The hell you will,” Cameron agreed with her.
“No, Dad,” Danny said, glancing at Tara as well. “You’re going to the reservoir. Wes, you’ll stay with us then.”
Hayley elbowed me. “He said they need another gun, Dad. Not a mother hen.”
“Ha ha,” I said, but I understood her point. This wasn’t a PlayStation game. I didn’t belong in that mix. Then again, I wouldn’t have done any better in the PlayStation game.
Blake, Nathan, Wes, and Danny climbed into a truck and headed towards the fighting in Cheyenne. The rest of us filled up with gas again and continued south towards Horsetooth Reservoir. I didn’t like leaving Danny behind, but what if he was right? What if the war was turning here, and America was fighting back? What if it was almost over? It was the second time tonight we’d seen helicopters firing on what we assumed were soldiers chasing us. We had to know what was going on, and no one would get a better answer than Danny. As wrong as letting him go felt, I agreed it had to be done. And then it started pouring.
Danny parked the truck at the famous Cheyenne Depot Museum, and the four of them set off on foot in the direction of the gunfire, presumably at nearby F. E. Warren Air Force Base. Each of them carried a handgun and rifle, and they hadn’t gone far before the gunfire seemed to switch direction. Climbing to the roof of a parking garage to get a better view, Danny discovered an enormous crater where the Air Force base had been. He also confirmed that the gun and rocket fire sounds had indeed been ricocheted by the winds. The battle was raging behind them, at the far end of the depot.