the starlight like a mirror. An embankment of 15 to 20 feet in height evened out to a tree line. His head did a slow nod. Perfect, his battle force would have a hard time finding room to maneuver if there was an ambush.
A green sign with rust on the edges announced:
FORT KNOX
ELIZABETHTOWN
The Commander tapped his microphone and spoke, “Hojo, you there?’
“Yes sir.”
“Slow down to half speed.” His eyes began the slow pivot of his surroundings. “I need some time to think.”
“Slowing to half speed, sir,” There was a squeal or two in the darkness as the big machines began to battle momentum. He was trying to train himself to ignore the shifting shadows among the wreckage and the broken forms watching the column. They were distracting as hell. A child in her perfect Sunday best was standing in the gully with water up to her ankles. She was transfixed by the liquid pools beneath her feet. She turned to the Commander as his vehicle passed by, the right side of her face was raw cartilage with a gaping hole between her jaw line and cheek bone. The mouth worked twice and a black tongue slithered in and out of the wound like a worm.
Jesus, he averted his eyes to the road.
“Sergeant Ubaid.” He tried to flush his mind of the image.
“Yes sir,” She answered quickly. He liked Ubaid. She was smart, precise and very alert, the perfect officer to bring up the rear and keep an eye out. She spoke a handful of languages around her home country of Egypt. To hell with past impressions and prejudices, she was one of those officers he kept close.
“How are things on your end?” He was listening to her tone now as a concrete overpass seemed to shimmer in the starlight before them.
“Very quiet, sir,” He swore he could see Ubaid take one more look around to be sure. “Is there anything wrong?”
“It just feels like ambush country.” He felt the instinct in him rising.
“Should we increase the space between vehicles?” Ubaid offered.
“Yeah, good idea.” The Commander liked the thought. It felt good to take at least some counter measures to suspicion. “How many sparrows do we have?”
“Two, sir,” Ubaid replied. “The other one is with jack rabbits four and five in Louisville.”
“Have we heard from them?” The Commander had a loose end on his hands there. He felt an uneasiness growing about it.
“No sir, nothing at all.” She replied.
“Increase space between vehicles and get the two sparrows in the air.” As an afterthought he added: “Tell the gunnery crews to shake the cobwebs off and have an eye.”
“Yes sir.”
He double tapped his microphone while watching the bridge grow larger and trees more skeletal. The wrecks on the road seemed to be part of the conspiracy as they began to crowd the Strykers into a single file column. Some barely showed any rust at all while others bore the orange red marks of the passing of time. He was reminded of vines growing on estates or algae at the edge of the river when he had time to go fishing. It was all just nature marking its territory.
He listened absently to Ubaid giving orders in her precise English. His unit was like any group of people randomly thrown together anywhere. It harbored personal feelings and prejudices. Any chance he had, the Commander left it to Ubaid to give the orders. They had better get used to it. He listened to his men replying. She was moving up in rank soon whether they liked it or not.
“This is Birk, ma’am.” He was a huge man with massive shoulders and a real knack for techie toys. The Commander wondered how a white Alabama boy would take to a dark skinned woman giving orders, but so far so good. “I have one sparrow ready. The other is with Jackrabbit 6.”
“Excellent private,” Ubaid replied. “Jackrabbit 6, are you ready?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Horowitz in Jackrabbit 6 was on the radio after a beat.
“Commander, sparrows are standing by.”
“Good,” he continued to watch for .........something. “Horowitz, I want a look behind those trees on our left.”
“Yes sir,”
“Birk, give me a close up look of that over pass.” The Commander leaned forward and squinted in the dark. “Don’t be too obvious. If there is someone there I don’t want them to know we are wise to them.”
“They won’t see our bird coming, sir.” Birk assured him.
“Good.“ The Commander liked confidence in his people, especially when they could back it up. He finally addressed his main concern: “Ubaid?”
“Yes sir.”
“I’ve got a bit of hunch.” He confided. “Break out our SLSAMS.”
“Of course, sir.”
Shoulder Launched Surface to Air Missiles were easy to store and every Stryker in the convoy had a few. They looked like shortened bazookas that were fired at their targets. They were a huge equalizer for surface vehicles against their whirling nemesis, the attack chopper. In combat readiness they were laid out beside the hatch of each vehicle. The target would only be there for a second.
The Commander gave silent thanks that high tech weaponry had either been used up or had worn out by now. If not, there was a good chance a missile could be launched from miles away, guided in by satellite technology to land within a few feet of the target. It was a terrifying thought. For all the training and armament you possessed, you were just a stick figure on someone’s screen a thousand miles away. War had always been bloody. Now it was impersonal. It felt like a slap in the face of tradition, less honorable. The Commander was discarding the thought when his conscience reminded him: you’re talking about honor after giving an order to kill a civilian?
The world felt like it was closing in. The trees rustled in a careless breeze and seemed to mutter a reply. Maybe the decisions are just getting harder as the lines between what is right and wrong grow more opaque. Enough, stop it.
“Sir, this is Birk.” His words were like short barks from a dog.
“Go ahead.”
“We’re coming up on the bridge, sir.” Birk sounded vaguely distracted. Flying the tiny camera laden toys could sometimes be a chore. “We’re coming up nice and easy like you said.”
“Sir?” A voice interrupted. “This is Ubaid.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry sir.” Ubaid herself was off mic. It was like she was looking around while speaking. “There has been some activity back here.”
“What is it?” His instinct began to rise like a wolf sensing danger.
“I thought I heard a noise.” Ubaid explained, she was trying to articulate a feeling that was more than just the jitters.
