He passed Charlie in front of the bed, stopping him for a moment.
“Stay low. No crazy shit. Fire three to five rounds at each target. Shift immediately to the next. Work your way down the line. If someone makes a break for the house from the trees, stopping them becomes your only focus. I suspect they’ll use the northern tree line for suppressing fire in support of the breaching team, so your job will mostly consist of staying alive and reducing their numbers. Be ready to help Linda if the squad in the eastern woods makes a run for the house. I suspect they will.”
“Got it, brother,” said Charlie with a fearful look.
“It’s gonna be hell, but we’ll hold them off,” said Alex, believing the first part more than the second. “Linda, your job is pretty straightforward. Keep them in the woods as long as possible. If they have any tactical sense, they’ll feel you out for a minute before giving it a go. They’ll send a few into the open under heavy suppressing fire. You bury your head in that rifle and keep it flush against the sandbags. Don’t remove your shooting glasses for any reason, or you’ll be put out of action by flying debris. It will not be a pleasant experience. Keep firing and call Charlie. Charlie?”
“Yo!”
“When Linda calls you over, take the window next to hers and concentrate on the men in the open. With a bit of luck and good shooting, you’ll take three to four attackers out of the equation. Keep your heads low. If it gets too intense to fire accurately, rapidly empty a few magazines using the Jihadi method and assess the situation.”
“Jihadi method?” asked Linda.
“Yeah. You just fire over the sand bags without looking,” he said, demonstrating with his own rifle. “If you can’t stop them from reaching the house, call it out over the radio. Charlie returns to his original position, and you head downstairs to watch the eastern breach points. Good to go?” he said, slapping Linda on the back.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” said Linda, keeping focused on the trees.
He heard a branch snap in the distance.
“Good luck,” he whispered.
On his way out of the bedroom, he racked his brain for anything he missed. ROTAC. The battle would be finished by the time the marine detachment sent to Brunswick could arrive, but it was worth a try.
Chapter 35
EVENT +75:20
Limerick, Maine
Eli stared at the barn through the trees, catching part of the gray colonial beyond the far left corner of the red siding. He needed to lead the squad to the right, on a due south heading, so they could enter the clearing safe from observation and direct gunfire. Of course, this theory assumed that the people in the house didn’t have a man situated in the barn. A half-opened window high up on the roofline stared down at him, casting serious doubt on an uninterrupted, near football field length jog across the grass. Like every window on the house, the screen was missing. He’d have to position at least two men to cover the window, bringing them across if the journey proved uneventful. His radio squawked.
“Liberty Actual, this is Liberty Three, we have a problem.”
“What is it, Liberty Three?”
“Last man in my column found a motion detector thirty feet from our ingress route. I can see another one, maybe one hundred feet away in the opposite direction. Looks like a wireless model. I think they know we’re coming.”
Shit.
He’d counted on cameras and motion-activated lights, but a perimeter of motion sensors was overkill for a bunch of summer folk. This might be a game changer.
“Can you tell if they’re live? The EMP should have killed all of this gear.”
“Most of our unplugged electronics gear survived. We have to assume this stuff works. They probably caught us watching the place yesterday. Might explain the late night military convoy. What if they offloaded a surprise? This whole thing could be a trap,” said Brown.
Double shit.
It was definitely possible. Eli glanced nervously around the forest, wondering if he’d already passed a hidden gun emplacement. Was his second squad lining up on the tree line to be hit from both sides? No. This was crazy thinking. A couple of stupid bitches got the drop on his drunken nephew and stole his SUV. Hatfield’s description of the bridge battle didn’t include a Green Beret A-Team. Jimmy’s group was hit by three guys in a Jeep during a blinding rainstorm, helped by a bunch of Hell’s Angels. Only one guy was in the Jeep spotted by Brown. None of it added up to a clever ambush by Special Forces. But how the hell did he explain a military convoy driving around at night without lights? Maybe the driver was some rich out-of-stater with connections. Who the fuck knew—or cared? They’d give it a try.
“Liberty Three, continue your approach. Hang back about thirty feet from the clearing to avoid visual detection and wait for second squad to engage the house. Give it about thirty seconds, then execute your mission.”
After a lengthy pause, Brown responded. “Roger. Liberty Three will advise when in position.”
“See you inside the house, Liberty Three. Actual, out.”
“I say we send a few guys across to test the waters. Just in case,” said Hillebrand, from a crouched position buried inside a familiar-looking plant.
“Don’t touch your eyes, Paul,” said Eli. “You’re sitting in poison ivy.”
“Son of a bitch,” said Hillebrand, stepping out of the bush and kneeling next to Eli.
“You got a few volunteers to send across?” said Eli.
“We don’t have volunteers in my squad. Ain’t a democracy. We’ll get set up on the edge and send two out. If we get hit by automatic fire from the barn, I’d say we might have a problem.”
“I agree. If we can get the whole squad to the barn, it won’t matter who they dropped off last night. Not with the thirty-cal firing seven hundred rounds per minute into the house.”
“Liberty Two, this is Liberty Actual.”
“Send it, Actual.”
He hated Bertelson’s radio protocol. The kid just didn’t get it. You didn’t tell your commanding officer to “send it.” You answer with your call sign and wait for orders. Why the fuck couldn’t he get this right? Now wasn’t the time to let this kind of shit bother him, so Eli took a deep breath and pressed his lips together before transmitting.
“Keep your squad thirty feet back from the clearing until I give you the order to move up. I don’t want them spotting you too early. The only exception will be the machine-gun team. I want them up near the edge of the tree line in a concealed position, prepping the thirty-cal for action. Bipod extended, round in the chamber. When I give the order, they will push that barrel through the foliage and sweep each floor of the house with sustained fire. After that, I want them focused on the right-side windows and the sliding door. Fire until the gun is out of ammo. How copy?”
“Solid copy, Actual. I’ll be on the gun myself, so we don’t have any screw ups.”
How the hell was he supposed to direct his squad sitting behind a thirty-caliber machine gun? Bertelson was getting under his skin.
“Negative, Liberty Three. I need you in a command and control position, not behind a machine gun.”
“Uhhh, I made the decision when we split off. I sent Raymond to lead the column across. He’s on the far left flank.”
Eli peered through the forest at the skirmish line formed by Bertelson’s squad, barely able to see past the fifth man in line. He didn’t need this kind of shit right before the attack. His gut instinct told him to relieve Bertelson before he made a decision that botched the entire plan. He could send Hillebrand to take over Liberty Two while Eli spearheaded the house breach. Tactically, it made more sense for him to leave Hillebrand in place and take over Bertelson’s squad, but then he’d miss all of the fun. There was no way Eli was going to pass up an opportunity to put his pistol grip shotgun into action. He’d just as soon miss his own son’s wedding, if he had one.