Chapter 3
BAG YOUR BANDIT
“Clear!”
It was quiet in the way a city shouldn’t be.
In the distance he could hear muted explosions and the occasional crack of gunfire.
Whatever fight had occurred here had long since moved on.
He was struck by how easy it was to forget that he was on home soil.
Washington, DC currently looked like every other warzone he’d ever been dropped into.
And there had been so many.
Beside him, Phin breathed heavily. The man was far from winded, but he was carrying twice the weight Gabriel was.
As his heavy weapons specialist, Phin was carrying a 5.
56mm light machine gun. Belt-fed and capable of piercing armor, it weighed 18lbs.
Phin carried it like it was nothing. He could fire it from his shoulder with alarming accuracy, too.
It wasn’t even the heaviest gun he used.
His heavy breathing had nothing to do with the weight.
Phin was struggling more than Gabriel thought he would.
This wasn’t easy for any of them, but Phin had seen some things.
He didn’t talk about it—at least not willingly, but he’d seen heavy combat while serving.
Gabriel knew some of the specifics, what he could drag from Phin on the nights the man teetered on the edge, and what he screamed in his sleep.
But most of the incidents were hidden behind black lines in confidential files—and in Phin’s nightmares.
Gabriel caught his eye. Phin’s eyebrows twitched, and he jerked hard enough that his helmet shifted. That was as close to a conversation as they could have. Not that Phin would talk to him in different circumstances.
They’d come a long way from the days of a shell shock diagnosis, but PTSD was still a taboo subject.
It didn’t seem to matter how hard the higher ups worked to get their men and women to acknowledge it.
It was still seen as a weakness. A broken arm?
Sure. Rest it up. But a broken head? That was harder.
How could the soldier at your back trust you if he thought you’d freeze up at the last second?
Judd was to his left, picking over the rubble and broken glass. For a man with a mouth the size of Texas, he could be silent when he wanted to.
A police cruiser was flipped on its side. Half the paint had burned off, and the windows were melted into the interior. Judd stepped up to peer inside. He eyed the two bodies in the front seat and didn’t bother to check for a pulse. With a quick shake of his head, he rejoined formation.
There were bodies everywhere. They were hard to look at—mangled, burned, shredded. And all very dead. Gabriel had to keep his eyes up, alert for movement. It was better than seeing the body of a mother shielding her child.
He stepped over an upended bag of groceries, careful not to rustle the plastic with his boot.
Somehow, seeing the bag of groceries was almost worse than the bodies.
It was so normal. He could picture someone walking home with their purchase.
Maybe it was a quick stop after a night shift, or an errand between clients.
Whoever had carefully picked out some oranges and a gallon of milk had no idea what would happen the moment they stepped out onto the street.
The street in front of them was wide. Red bricked buildings—mostly offices and storefronts—classy.
The minimal landscaping had been nice at one point.
Now, most of it was ashy ruins and pits where bushes had been ripped free.
Cars were parked haphazardly. Some still where they had been left before the fighting broke out, others thrown about carelessly, like toys on a child’s playmat.
It was hard to imagine something strong enough to toss cars with ease.
Gabriel couldn’t tell what kind of weaponry had been used by the enemy. Occasionally, he saw brass glinting in the early morning sunlight. Expended shells that looked like they could be anything from 9mm to the larger rounds from a truck-mounted gun. There had been a standoff here.
He caught Phin and Judd’s eye and signaled for them to stay close. With the radios out, it was impossible for them to communicate. Maintaining a line of sight was imperative, especially with their small numbers.
As they came abreast with an alley, he nodded for Judd to clear it. The soldier scurried forward, gun raised as he rounded the corner. His quick sweep indicated nothing. They kept moving.
The need for speed made them risk being out in the open like this. Normally, they would have at least waited until dark for better cover. But that was when they were facing a known enemy. One with identified weaknesses and motivations.
He still refused to allow himself to believe they were fighting actual aliens.
This had to be some form of unknown technology.
A very advanced, but very human, assailant.
Maybe North Korea was further along in its weapons development than they knew.
It wasn’t as if they were big on the whole sharing thing.
Except that every country had suffered a similar attack. Almost every major city had been under fire, and it was unknown if Washington, DC was the only American city. The…assailants could have moved on after they had mostly subdued the capital.
The only thing Gabriel knew for sure was that he didn’t know enough; it grated on him.
Judd caught his eye. He tapped his ear with an index finger, then gestured all around them.
Why is it so quiet?
Gabriel shook his head. He had no idea. Even the sounds of battle in the distance had faded to nothing.
Were they too late? It didn’t feel like it.
Dust coated his face and tongue. It tasted fresh, like it was still being kicked into the air.
He could smell acrid gunpowder, too. That he expected.
The weird thing was ozone. It was strong, almost overpowering.
It reminded him of the water plant near his childhood home.
Judd held up his fist. Gabriel caught the move out of the corner of his eye and readied his gun. The scout was still, shoulders tense. He looked left, then right. Gabriel was about to ask him what he’d seen when he heard it.
A shrill whine. It sounded like a high-pitched whistle. Just this side of painful, Gabriel tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. That’s when he heard the clicking. Softer than the whine, it was more like pennies in an empty soda can. Phin hefted his gun and braced.
Ahead of them was a four-way intersection. The stoplight closest to them had been ripped out of the ground, shattered asphalt clinging to the base. The lights were dark. They hadn’t seen any sign of electricity since they hit the ground.
Suddenly, a silver ball about the size of a big dog came whizzing across the rooftops. It zipped over the buildings, as fast as a professionally thrown baseball. Gabriel could barely get a read on it before it was gone, taking the noise with it.
“What the fuck?” Phin whispered under his breath, eyes wide.
“A drone?”
“Assume it’s hostile,” Gabriel ordered.
Judd opened his mouth to say something when the whine returned.
Gabriel had a second to think before the sphere thing turned.
It almost looked like it saw them as it whizzed by and needed the time to make a U-turn to backtrack.
Hovering just above the intersection, Gabriel could just make out a black orb affixed to the front face of the sphere. A camera?
Or the muzzle of a gun.
“Take cover!” he ordered just before the sphere fired.
Grabbing Judd by the back of his plate carrier, he dragged him behind into the alley they had just passed. An explosion rocked on their heels, close enough for him to feel the heat at his back.
They scrambled. Phin and Judd grabbed two ends of a dumpster on wheels, pushing it towards the opening of the alley. Gabriel checked out the rest of the backstreet looking for cover.
Judd settled his gun on his shoulder, looking over the dumpster. “I think we can stop assuming!”
“What the hell was that?” Phin roared, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know, just fucking shoot it!” Judd snapped.
Gabriel found some metal trash cans and dragged them up to make a barricade. The whining clicks were getting louder.
“Where is it storing ammunition?” Phin asked breathlessly.
It was a good question. Gabriel wished he had an answer. For all he knew, that was the drone giving them what amounted to a warning shot across the bow. Was it capable of a second shot? Whatever the answer, they couldn’t stay here.
“What’s the plan?” Judd called over his shoulder, eyes trained on the entrance to the alley.
Looking down to the other side, he noticed it opened out onto some smaller side streets.
“Let’s go.”
“Forrest Gumping it is.”
Behind them, the clicking grew louder.