“We have two teams here. I’ll need you and your men to refit as soon as possible and break off with Captain Emmitt and his recovery platoon. You will be escorting them to the chemical plant to secure the remaining MX4,” Captain Cole said.
The same young soldier from before returned from the cluster of equipment and handed Cole a black clipboard. The officer turned to walk away. Rogers reached out and grabbed his elbow. “But, sir… I thought we would be returning to Meaford,” Rogers said. “We’re beat up here and could use some downtime.”
Captain Emmitt, short and broad shouldered, shook his head. “Sergeant Rogers, Meaford is under direct assault. We can’t—we won’t—return empty-handed. The only reason we were able to get here so fast is we were already on standby to assault the chemical plant without intelligence.”
“Then sir, I need to report to you that we have civilian survivors in the vicinity. They are also caring for my wounded and have wounded of their own. And I have KIA that need to be attended to. Can you ensure that this is seen to?”
Captain Cole’s eyes went wide with a surprised expression. “Yes, of course. These civilians, they know the area well? Do they have details on the MX4’s deployment? They could be a valuable resource for us; where can I find them?”
Rogers turned and pointed to Eve.
Chapter Fifty-One
Captain Merritt moved fast, gathering the remaining Assassins to an assembly area south of the Chinooks. A large green locker box was opened with new weapons and ammo. Another pair of marmite containers held hot chow, fresh from Meaford. While the men ate, others moved around helping them, refitting their equipment for the next mission.
“I’m really sorry to do this to you. You damn well deserve a break. But with recent events, we need your ground experience at the plant,” Merritt said. “I asked for the hot meal. Thought maybe I could earn back some friendship with it.”
Jacob scooped a mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy from a plastic tray. “Sir, what exactly is happening at Meaford?”
Merritt advanced close to them and sat on an ammo case. “As you all know, we started getting probed last week. Yesterday, they broke through the lines. By midnight, they were at the main gates.”
“How bad is it?” Jacob asked. “Are the people inside safe?”
“We’ve held, but we can’t keep throwing our forces at them like this. We really need this MX4 to work.”
James took a bite from his tray and tossed a chunk of sliced turkey to Duke who quickly lapped it up. Merritt took notice and looked at the dog curiously.
“Strange, I don’t recall your squad having a working dog.”
“Oh yeah, this guy's an Assassin through and through. One of the best on the team,” James said with Rogers and Jacob nodding in agreement. James reached down and patted Duke on the ribs before setting the remains of his tray on the ground for him to finish.
“What’s his duty type? Explosives? Force security?” asked Merritt, looking at the dog’s matted fur.
James stroked Duke’s neck and smiled. “This guy? Nah… he is a dedicated Delta detector. Best in the business, too.”
Merritt grinned, knowing he was being bullshitted. “Well, it’s good enough for me, but you should probably get a leash on him; don’t want him getting away from you in the Chinook.”
“Duke can’t be leashed; he’s recon like me. Needs to have his space to work.”
“Well, suit yourself. It’s a short hop to the landing zone; keep a hold of him,” Merritt said, laughing. “Oh, and I’ll get Duke, the Delta Detecting Recon Dog, added to the passenger manifest.”
The Chinooks’ turbines whined as soldiers gathered gear and loaded from the rear ramp. Rogers stood and grabbed his weapons and equipment, restocking the items laid out for him, stuffing them in his pack or filling empty pouches on his gear. Jacob followed the veteran troop’s lead and did the same. He still had the M14 and refused to give it up; he liked the iron sights. He now had an M9 on his hip and several more grenades on his chest.
James was the first to move toward the aircraft. Duke hesitated, so James bent down and carried the dog in his arms. Jacob grabbed his own pack then helped James with his. He moved forward and fell in line behind James, following him aboard the helicopter. The aircraft was nearly full, being filled from the front to the back. James moved to the next available seat, dropping into an orange webbed jump seat. Jacob piled in next to him, placing his ruck between his feet and situating James’s pack. Rogers dropped in across from him. As the turbines roared, the rotor RPM increased, washing out the fairway in swirling grass and dry snow.
Looking up the fuselage, Jacob counted twenty-four men, including his own group. The engines roared and Jacob pressed back into the seat while the Chinook quickly lifted off and spiraled up and away, avoiding ground fire as they passed over occupied areas. Jacob looked down at Duke on James’s lap. James had his gloved hands over the dog’s ears, helping to shield them from the noise. James caught Jacob’s gaze and leaned in close, yelling, “I wonder if Eve is going to miss me.”
Jacob put his head back against the headrest, laughing. The helicopter turned to the right and gained altitude then banked hard and turned sharp, diving as the helicopter banked. Merritt moved to the jump seat beside Rogers. He had the chemical compound mapped out and Rogers pointed to the tanks holding the MX4. The helicopter dropped again, already preparing for their approach to Middleville.
“Seemed a lot longer when we made the trip by foot,” Rogers said, looking across to Jacob.
Wide holes, the size of fifty-cent pieces, suddenly appeared on the sides of the helicopter then traced a line along the floor
