straight down, a small amount of its forward momentum remains causing it to hit the pavement face first with a crack next to its friend.
“You okay,” Lynn asks over the radio as I kneel to clean my blade on the night runner’s clothing.
“I’m good,” I say replacing my knife and picking my M-4 up.
I am still puzzled as to why they did not shriek like the others but will take fortune where it is found. I do a quick check of the area and find it clear. The soldiers behind me to the left and right are rising from their knees where they went down in a ready stance covering the area when the two night runners emerged.
We start up the road again, round a slight bend and the sound of the full fury of what Sergeant Mullins is dealing with comes to us. Shrieks sound out continuously with rapid fire gunshots overriding them occasionally. Howls of pain intrude upon the absolute din breaking over the night. We reach another main intersection and head to our left, across a large grassy lawn adjacent to a building which then opens up to the parking lot in front of the BX.
“Drescoll, spread quietly and slowly out to the right. Lynn, spread out on me,” I whisper in the radio.
“Yes, sir,” they both respond. I can barely hear their replies over the noise.
“What’s the plan?” I hear Lynn ask.
“Not sure yet but we can’t linger long thinking about it. They’ll spot us soon enough,” I say responding.
I study the massed night runners. It should not be all that difficult creating a hole for Mullins and his group to escape through; it is the mass of night runners chasing us down afterwards that worries me. And, with them being faster, it will not be long before they catch up to us, certainly before we get to the aircraft.
“Everyone ready a grenade and toss it in their midst on my command. Break. Robert, tell Mullins we’re here. Have him get everyone up and be ready to run when our grenades go off and let me know when he says he’s ready. Tell him we are off to his right just back from the parking lot edge,” I say quietly into the radio.
“Will do, Dad,” Robert answers.
I do not pull any grenades out as I will need all of them later with what I have in mind. I plan leading as much of them away from the main group as I can after our introduction and announcement to the night runners that we are here. That, I think, will give the group the best fighting chance to get back safely.
“Lynn, get the rest back in the folding retreat we talked about. No firing or engaging here after the grenades go off, you’ll need your ammo. Unless it’s to keep them away from Mullins as they exit,” I whisper into the radio.
“What are you going to do Jack?” Lynn says with an edge to her voice.
“I’m going to lead them away,” I answer.
“The hell you are!” She whispers fiercely.
“Yes, I am, now get ready, Sergeant!” I whisper fiercely back.
“Dad, they say they’re ready,” Robert calls over the radio.
“Okay, Son. See you in a bit. Have the ramp doors ready to lower and raise them back up quickly. I love you!” I whisper back to him.
“I love you too, Dad,” I hear him say in a slightly trembling voice as if he did not understand exactly what was said but knowing it probably was not good. I slink a little way to the left of the lined up teams.
“Now!” I whisper into the radios.
My night vision goggles pick up the movement of arms along the firing line as they arc grenades into the parking lot and among the masses of night runners gathered there. Seconds later, the grenades go off in an almost simultaneous roar. The eleven grenades create one giant explosion of sound and light spreading their deadly payload of shrapnel across and through the horde. Bodies that were close to the grenades are lifted into the air, flailing as they rise, their expressions not yet exhibiting the surprise, shock, and pain that their bodies are undergoing. Severed limbs join the bodies. The greenish glow does not catch the splash of blood, bone and flesh that must cover an area so littered with flying body parts. Those not tossed into the air are thrown sideways from the force of the explosion and shrapnel.
With the loud explosions still ringing in our ears, I see the group we have come to help emerge from the front of the BX and run in our direction. The night runners still left standing, and yes, there are quite a few of them, stand still for a moment in a daze, confused by the sudden noise and the disappearance of so many of their group. Recovery is quick though and they shriek loudly as they spot Mullins’ group dashing across the parking lot to join up with the others.
“Lynn, start back now as planned! Hold your fire as long as you can. I’ll draw as many as I can. See you soon, hon,” I say loudly into the mic.
“You be careful Jack! I love you!” She responds.
I stand from my position and yell loudly, “Come on you ugly shits! I’m over here!”
I fire a few rounds on semi to get their attention, my weapon casting a strobe effect over the area with each round expelled. A few night runners, as they begin their chase towards Lynn and her now retreating teams, drop as my rounds find their mark. Many of the night runners change direction in mid-step and head towards me. I turn and run. The chase is on.
Lynn quickly briefs Sergeant Mullins on their exit strategy of falling back in teams of two. She directs the first team of two to hold as they reach the street. Looking quickly over to the side, she sees Jack run across an intersection and between two buildings with night runners close behind him and closing.
“Be safe,” she whispers into the night before falling back and detailing the next two, arranging the rest quickly into teams of two to provide the covering withdrawal back.
Not a few of the night runners continue after Lynn, deciding to continue after the larger group rather than chase after Jack. The first two team members kneel in the road and begin to fire on semi-automatic at the closest night runners. The soldiers attempt, and succeed for the most part, to keep the distance between themselves and the night runners. Each watches several night runners fall as the steel leaves their barrels in quick intervals and finds targets. Heads snap back and small spots blossom on the chests. Night runners spin, are launched backwards, or fall forward as the soldier’s rounds strike home. They are keeping count of their rounds as they fire rapidly; quickly shifting aim from one night runner to the next. The clink of individual shell casings is barely audible as they bounce across the hard top. Night runners behind quickly take the place of the fallen. Leaving over twenty on the ground, most not moving where they fell; some slowly crawling short distances, the soldier on the left yells “Go!” They stand and run to their rear passing the next two kneeling in line; passing all of the others getting set up and take a position ten meters to the rear of the group, ready to repeat their actions when their turn comes again.
Lynn takes station in the middle of the group with another team member to her right, waiting her turn to cover the retreat back to the aircraft. Drescoll is at the rear, separated so they will still have command in case one of them goes down. She sees the soldiers up front kneel and begin delivering rounds into the crowd of night runners chasing rapidly after them. The flashes of light from their barrels reach her a split second before the echo of their shots. The noise of the night runners and the ensuing rifle fire fills the air around, belying the quietness of the star-lit, night sky looking down. The two soldiers that were at the head of the line soon rush by her on their way to the rear, the action taken up by the next line of soldiers.
A large, muffled explosion comes from her left, carried with the breeze, followed by even more muffled sounds of gunfire being delivered in short, measured intervals, exactly like those now being delivered once again to her front; rapid fire rounds on semi-automatic.
The next two in line deliver their measured rounds in rapid fire fashion but the sheer numbers of night runners closes the distance dramatically. Lynn notices that the night runners are also attempting to run around and circumvent the group on the flanks. She moves up the line and orders the groups of two to fold into groups of four, the outside two to begin firing into the flanking hordes. The groups quickly reform and the volume of fire doubles dropping night runners in their tracks and keeping the distance between the oncoming mass and the retreating soldiers more or less constant.
