“First world problems, Captain,” Copeland replied with a chuckle, shaking his head. “First world problems.” He took one of the maps and then handed the stack to Private Mack, who began distributing them amongst the men. “All right boys!” Copeland barked. “Let’s settle down. We got a busy-ass morning ahead of us, so we need to go over the game plan.”
There was a shuffle as the men settled in, turning towards their Sergeant and holding their maps, a few bending over shared papers. Kersey stepped off to the side to watch the briefing.
“Our primary goal this morning is to block off the I-Five bridge over the river,” Copeland began. “The bad news is, it’s a four-lane road with thousands of zombies to the north and south of it. The good news is, the tools we need to block it off are already there in the form of concrete median barriers. Only thing we need is to go find a way to move them.
“Our secondary goal is to block off the town bridge to the east. Luckily, this is only a two-lane bridge, and the expected enemy push is going to be minimal compared to the interstate area, so a few trucks oughta do the trick.” He held up the map, pointing to the north. “There are going to be three teams working together to make this happen. Kowalski, Wade,” he said, pointing to the two snipers.
They perked up, sitting at attention as their names were called.
“Your sniper teams are going to be landing to the northwest of the river,” the Sergeant explained. “Assuming you hit your landing target, you’ll be half a mile from your position.” He pointed to a large shopping center between the interstate and the surface road leading to the other bridge. “You’re gonna be set up here, in two teams, one facing each road. Your mission is to draw as many of those things to you as possible, giving the bridge team time to set up the barricade. When you hit the ground, you start lighting them up, cause we’re going to need them away from the bridge if we’re gonna be able to do our job.”
Kowalski’s brow furrowed as he studied the map closely, focusing in on a dark section of the interstate. “Question, Sarge,” he said, raising his hand.
“What is it, Private?” Copeland asked.
The sniper pointed to the blob. “Any idea what this dark patch on the interstate is?” he asked.
“We’re hoping it’s just darker pavement,” the Sergeant admitted, shaking his head.
The snipers shared a concerned look.
“Hoping?” Kowalski demanded.
Copeland held up a palm. “Relax, Private, you boys are good at what you do,” he said confidently. “You’ll find a way to get across.”
Kowalski and Wade preened with some pride at the praise, even though both knew it was a blatant dismissal of their concern.
“Corporal Dawson,” Copeland continued, “your team is up next. While the population to the north in Burlington is around ten thousand, the population to the south in Mount Vernon is closer to thirty-five thousand. And it being mostly residential near the bridge, the sniper diversion teams wouldn't be nearly as effective.” He grinned. “So we’re gonna have to get a little more creative.”
He held up the map, motioning at the landing zone to the southeast of the river, and the group all looked over their papers. There was a long line drawn down a highway running diagonally to the interstate, with a large circle just to the west of the road.
“You’ll be landing with us to the southeast of the river,” Copeland continued, “then huffing it. It’s a three-mile hike through infested territory, but there’s no other safe landing zone that’s closer.”
Dawson nodded. “We’ll make do, Sarge,” he assured his superior. “Just let us know what needs to be done.”
“Good, because you got the most important mission of the day,” Copeland declared. “Your target is a car dealership. You have a few mechanics on your team who are going to set the car alarm sensitivity to maximum, which means a stiff breeze will set it off. The rest of you will be spreading the cars out around town, hopefully attracting those things who will keep the cycle going by bumping into them. This won’t be perfect, but hopefully it will keep the pressure off of my team on the bridges.”
He took a deep breath, looking around at the men, who were nodding and staring down at the maps, murmuring quietly to each other.
Copeland looked to his squad. “You boys are going to be with me,” he said. “Our first target is the Super Center just south of the bridge. According to the sat image, there are a few trucks parked in the back, which we’ll use for the side bridge. For the main bridge, we’ll need to secure some rebar or other pole from the store so we can move those barriers. We got a buttload of them to do, so if you see back braces in the store, grab some.”
A light round of chuckles rippled across the men.
“Okay,” Copeland continued, clapping his hands together, “let’s talk load out. South teams, you got two hundred and ten rounds for your primary, thirty for your side. Sniper team, you’ve been authorized for double at four-twenty. We’re gonna be relying on you to hold the northern front one shot at a time.”
Kowalski raised a victory fist. “Don’t worry Sarge,” he piped up, “we’re a competitive bunch, so you can be sure we’ll be making every shot count.”
“Double check your rations,” Copeland reminded them, “and make sure you have a three-day supply, because we could be there for a while before reinforcements arrive. If you need a top off, they’re handing stuff out in the next hangar.”
Wade raised his hand, and the Sergeant pointed to him. “Who do we talk to about night-vision scopes?” the Private asked.
Copeland glanced over at Kersey, and the Captain took a step forward.
“I was able to score a
