up!”
That had to be enough. They had to get out. And he thought he saw them out of the corner of his eye, fleeing up the stairs to a higher story.
The mechanical outside was firing a virtual sheet of bullets through the windows. They went through the kitchen wall like it was paper. Which it probably was. Cole and Rube were already at the back door. Which had a crash bar and a big red alarm will sound sign on it.
“Gee, we might wake up the neighbors,” said Rube. Then he pushed on it.
The door opened. The alarm went off. They went out on their bellies as bullets continued to slap against the door and the bricks of the back wall of the kitchen.
Then the door closed behind them. The shooting continued but at least now they could hear themselves think.
They were not in an alley. New York City didn’t believe in alleys. That’s why they had to put their garbage right out on the street. Like a weird kind of window display—come, look what we throw away from this store. Don’t we have attractive garbage? Don’t we use an incredibly cheap grade of plastic bag?
“There’s no way out of here,” said Rube.
“Yet,” said Cole. He was already trying doors. Rube checked around the other way. They met in the middle of the opposite side of the courtyard. All were locked.
“These people are so
A shotgun blast tore through the window. Fortunately, it missed both Cole and Reuben.
“I thought privately owned guns were illegal in this city!” shouted Cole.
“They had one hell of a shotgun salesman come through here, I guess.”
Cole shouted into the window. “The city is being attacked. We’re United States Army! Look at our uniforms!”
A woman’s face appeared in the shattered window. They both stood out from the wall, showing ID and letting her look at their uniforms.
“Who’s attacking!” She had some kind of foreign accent, maybe Spanish, but her English was nice and clear.
No time to explain. “Aliens!” shouted Cole.
The door swung open so fast it rebounded off the wall and almost shut again. Cole and Rube pushed through it. “We need to get out onto Murray Street,” said Rube. “We need to get to our weapons.”
She ran ahead of them, praying in Spanish as she went.
“Stay indoors,” said Cole.
The woman nodded as she fumbled with the keys and finally got the front door open.
Cole started looking for Mingo’s SUV. Only when Rube pushed the button on the remote did Cole realize that the SUV was directly in front of him.
“I planned it this way when I chose our parking place,” said Rube.
“It’s a miracle from God
By now they were both inside the SUV with the doors closed.
“Want to try to run for it in the car?” said Rube.
“Did you see what it did to that parked car back there?” said Cole. “I want to see Mingo’s arsenal!”
“He won’t have a grenade launcher, more’s the pity,” said Rube.
“I’d be happy with a World War II bazooka.”
Rube pulled out an M-16A2 rifle. “You want this? Or there’s an M-4.”
“How the hell did Mingo get an M-4 for private use?” said Cole.
“You want it or not?” said Rube.
“Duh,” said Cole, reaching for the weapon he knew best, the M-4.
“And maybe I’ll take the Minimi.”
“You didn’t tell me there was a machine gun when you offered me my choice.”
“Too late, no takebacks. Here’s an M-9 for you and an M-9 for me.”
Cole took the offered pistol and then they started sharing out ammunition.
“When did you learn Chinese?”
“They were starting to train me for the
“They guessed wrong,” said Rube. “
“That was high school Spanish. And some college Spanish. And look. An M-240. Forget the Minimi. I want the heavier bullets.”
“Against tanks?”
“I’m betting the mechs aren’t armored like a tank,” said Rube. “Too heavy for those legs to hold up.”
“They’re big and new and maybe the people who made them have a new way to repel bullets, too.”
“Here’s a belt of grenades for you,” said Rube, “and a belt for me. You take the Minimi if you want it so much. Just don’t load yourself down with too much weaponry.”
“Yes sir,” said Cole. “Look who’s talking, sir. Yours is ten pounds heavier than mine.”
“Where’s our friend?” asked Rube.
“From the sound, still shooting at the Chinese restaurant.”
“Or at something,” said Rube. “Us again in a minute.”
“What’s our objective, sir?” asked Cole.
Rube laughed. “Good point, Captain. No, we will not seek con-rontation. Our objective is to get the hell out of New York City befoore the tunnels are sealed off.”
“My guess is that unless these guys are complete idiots, the tunnels were sealed off and emptied first thing.”
“They’d seal off the bridges, too,” said Rube. “And the tunnels are closer.”
“But there are buckets and buckets of water above them,” said Cole.
“And just as much water way, way, way below the bridges. And most of the bridges lead to Long Island.”
“On
“On
“Holland Tunnel, sir?” asked Cole.
“And we
“Do you think it really is Americans attacking the city?”
“Yes,” said Rube. “Because I can’t think of any foreign country lat would be dumb enough to try to attack the U.S. like this.”
“So Mingo’s weapons—we’re going to be shooting at Americans.”
“
“Plus, they shot at us first,” said Cole.
“So when you know you can’t win, you save your army,” said Rube. “Our proper course is to get as many fighters as possible out of this city to a place where they can fight again.”
“I think we can do this and still get to church, don’t you?” said lole.
They put their hands on opposite door handles. “Ready?” said Rube.
“Mingo is going to be so pissed we left so much of his arsenal behind,” said Cole.