Brody turned to a ruddy faced, bearded man on his left, “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Dimitri Remner. Dimitri is a pilot, he’s worked up in the Yukon Territory and also worked dusting crops out west. As you know one of the reasons we failed to bust into the prison before was the fortified main gate inside the perimeter fence—”
A voice piped up from the back of the room, “Yeah, we lost some good people last time, learnt the hard way—”
Mercy turned and caught a glimpse of a tall man with striking tattoos on his arms. Her eyes narrowed for a second.
He’s hurting bad… and he’s angry—
Brody nodded, “Yes we did Seth, yes we did. And we know about the militia’s farms around the city… they are using slave labour to bring their crops in. We know they use the captives in the prison as leverage to force the rest of their families work in the fields. It’s medieval and brutal and it’s got to stop—”
Dimitri lifted a satchel from the floor and rummaged inside, he brought out a handful of maps and papers. He spread them out on the table.
Brody cleared his voice, “Anyhow, we now have a way to blast the inner and outer gates open. We plan to raid the militia airfield north of Charlottesville, steal one of their biplanes, fly it to the prison and hand-drop their own ordnance on them. They’ve used the same technique on us before, it’s a blunt but effective tool.” Brody turned to Remner, “Over to you Dimitri.”
Dimitri coughed and stood up, “The NSA militia have a hangar at the airport with a few planes as you know. They have fuel and aerial bombs, we can surprise the guards and steal a plane. I will fly it and we can drop bombs onto the prison to breach the gates.” He stopped to let his words sink in.
Silence cut through the room. A dog barked outside. Mercy looked at the faces around the table.
He’s not won them over—
Dimitri continued, “We’ll need someone with military skills to organise the attack on the airfield and to come with me in the plane to drop the bombs—”
Mercy frowned.
OK—
“And I’m glad to say that I’ve found a volunteer,” Dimitri turned and raised a hand at Barnes standing at the back of the room. “Commander Barnes, from the Resistance has agreed to lead the operation on the airfield and to fly with me in the plane. He will drop the bombs by hand—”
Wait, what—?
Barnes stepped forwards. All eyes turned to him, he cleared his throat, “Dimitri has used this airport in the past and has drawn me a detailed map. The garrison, I am told, is maintained at about twenty men. Subject to a fresh recon and adequate resources, I can put together a raid that will take out this garrison and allow us to capture a plane. We’ll also need to destroy any remaining aircraft to stop the militia coming after us—”
“What about these bombs? They’re not exactly RPGs are they? I mean… dropping them by hand, that’s a bit… primitive isn’t it? And dangerous—?” Tawny spoke up.
Barnes raised a hand, “It is a bit retro… I’ll give you that, but it was a technique used in the World War 1; hand-dropped aerial bombs and flechettes were dropped by both sides on each other. The hand-delivered bombs are generally around 20 lbs in weight and, when positioned correctly, can be effective. Dimitri tells me he can fly in low, we’ll have the element of surprise, and it’s one of their own planes with their markings. They shouldn’t fire on us, at least not on the first run, so we can get a couple of bombs in before they realise it’s an attack—”
“And dangerous—?” Tawny repeated.
Barnes nodded, “Yes. It’s dangerous. There are two types of bombs; ones with pistol-type detonating mechanisms and others with time fuses. With such a low attack on the gates we would use the ground impact, pistol-detonating ones. We could carry about ten on the plane. From what I gather the militia planes are also fitted with a wing-mounted machine gun over the pilot’s cockpit which should prove helpful.” Barnes stopped speaking, allowing the room to digest the information.
A few heads nodded around the table.
Nice one Barnes. You’re getting warmer. They’re taking it in—
Barnes continued, “You’ve got about sixty people in this camp. I’ll need twenty fighters to take the airfield. That’s probably overkill, but it’s crucial we wipe out that garrison and get that plane. We’ll have comms, so we can co-ordinate and keep the rest of you up to speed on our progress for phase two of the mission—”
Mercy raised an eyebrow.
Phase two—?
Brody stood up and took over, “This is where our gifted newcomers come into the equation. We’ve looked every which way at our options of breaking into the prison. There’s about three hundred militia and two hundred prisoners in there. They’ve chained tropes to the outer prison fence all the way around. The militia have horses and vehicles, fuel and supplies, and they outnumber us… so a siege is out, infiltration by stealth is out, someone even suggested parachuting a team in at night onto the prison roof… all these have their pitfalls. The one idea that stands up is this: we create a horde of tropes in Charlottesville and lead them to the prison. Barnes and Dimitri will then blast the gates open with the plane, then we let the tropes into the prison to cause maximum chaos. We do this by day, as Barnes needs to be able to see where to drop the bombs… and Dimitri needs to fly safely. There should be a
