“Captain, it was a thing of beauty I tell you,” proclaimed Lowry. “I sees this Stryker sitting there and I say to my self, ‘self, you want that. Go get it’. Now you have to understand Sir, Reynolds here was reluctant to do anything. I mean, he doesn’t want to get in a jam over stolen government property and all.”
“Oh no, never!” called out a solider. Reynolds rolled his eyes.
The assembled group of men, DeMetrie, Lowry, Reynolds, Saxon and a host of others
huddled around the Captains desk in his office. They were dirty, tired and hungry but they couldn’t help but take a few minutes to gloat over the successful mission and return of two popular soldiers.
Reenacting the scene for all to enjoy, Lowry continued, “so I go creeping up to the back of the Stryker, tippy-toe up to the commander’s turret and there’s my foe. My nemesis! The man standing, well sleeping, between me and my new ride.”
Deadpan, Reynolds said, “So Lowry bored him to death with one of his stories.”
Ignoring the quip, Lowry continued. “So I present to you Captain DeMetrie, loyal leader of this band of merry mirth makers, a new set of wheels. I have to say Captain, swiping the get-away car was pretty inspired. I’m impressed.”
Smiling, DeMetrie said, “Can’t take credit for it. It was Miller’s idea. Actually pretty much all of tonight was Miller’s idea.”
“Where is he Sir?” asked Reynolds.
Looking at his watch, the Captain said, “by this point….aw…who am I kidding. Hell if I know. You know how he can do things sometimes.”
The stories, the banter, the good natured teasing continued for a good ten minutes while the men decompressed from the events of the previous few days. DeMetrie was proud of his soldiers. They had fought well, and hard, in an odd situation. He mourned the death of those he lost, as he always did, but overall they had banded together and were now all safely back across the river.
“Alright boys. Glad you’re all back but there’s a war on. Saxon, make sure all the teams are fed, rearmed and resupplied. We’ve got to get teams back in the field. Get with all the team-leaders and figure out how to get back on the rotation schedule. Report back when you’ve got it.”
Saxon nodded, and patting Lowry and Reynolds on the back left the office.
“The rest of you, go get cleaned up, get some shut-eye and report in to your team-leaders at 0:630. Good work tonight.”
As all the men shuffled out of the office, congratulating Lowry and Reynolds on their return, DeMetrie sat behind his desk. After the office cleared, he let out a long sigh.
“Boys, I’m glad you’re back safely. But next time you pull a stunt like this, I’m leaving your asses behind enemy lines. I’m getting too old to keep you two out of trouble.”
Lowry and Reynolds both mumbled a “Sir” in response to the comment.
“Ok, go get cleaned up, get some chow, and get your gear together. Wish I could give you more time, but we’ll go back at it in the morning. We’ll have to shuffle some men around to compensate for personnel and we’ll tackle that first thing.”
Both of his soldiers, men he truly loved, stood, and in best military form, saluted the leader that moved heaven and earth to bring them back.
DeMetrie was exhausted. He was right, there was a war in progress, and there would be no time to celebrate. The fight would continue. The raids would still be launched. Men would die as the country continued to rip itself apart. As he mulled over the personnel matters one fact kept nagging at him.
They’d dealt the strength of Crutchfield’s forces a significant blow. They would be weaker and less effective for sure. But the camp to their north, the one that had been the source of all their attentions, remained unscathed and operational.
****
First the knob to Kirilinko’s office door turned. Then it was turned, in rapid succession from right to left in a futile attempt to open it. The door had been locked from the inside. Loud yelling, in a foreign language, erupted as the General’s men realized something was wrong.
Within seconds, someone attempted to bash through the door, which only resulted in a deep bruise and sore shoulder. Dink has moved two large pieces of furniture across the opening to further prevent it from opening.
Turning quickly to his men. “Dink, you take the General, Webb take Mack. Make sure they can’t make a sound.”
As Webb and Dink began the process of rounding up their captives, and hoisting them too their feet, Miller dug though a small knapsack that Dink had brought along for just such a circumstance. Kirilinko’s eyes widened as he saw Miller pull the explosives out of the fabric bag.
Dink leaned forward, “No worries boss, that will hardly leave a mark.” While Dink chuckled as his humorous quip, Kirilinko frowned and was not equally amused.
“I assumed you barricaded the entrance to this stairwell so his men can’t get in,” asked Miller nodding towards the rear staircase. Papa had used his vast resources to secure plans to the building, which helped his men to craft their plan.
“It’s wrapped up tight,” replied Webb. “They can’t get into the stairway, but we can get out to the street.”
“Ok, go. Get the hell out of the building,” advised Miller. “If either one of them make a sound, or try to escape, blow their heads off.”
Dink and Webb nodded and forcibly manhandled their charges towards the door.
As the men on the other side of Kirilinko’s office recovered from their confusion, the pounding on the office door continued. It was clear they had recovered sledgehammers, or were using rifle butts to impact the door. While it was stout, it would not last long under the assault.
Calmly, Miller placed the small charge of explosives at the base of the shelving unit and other furniture Dink had carefully placed over the doorway. Pulling out a small length of wire from the device, he attached it to the side of one of the pieces. Once Kirilinko’s men breached the doorway, the wire would be pulled further from the explosive unit and detonate it.
Carefully flipping a small switch illuminated a red light indicating the charge was armed.
As the door continued to jump and bounce under the impacts, the stack of furniture had already moved nearly an inch. Miller carefully, and quickly, backed away.
Grabbing the knapsack, he retrieved another device, along with his rifle, and went into the stairwell of the rear entrance to Kirilinko office. Pulling the door shut behind him, he placed another explosive charge on the ground and then wedged the end of the wire detonator into the door jam. If the first unit failed, this unit stood as a backup.
Repeating the process of arming the charge, he grabbed up the rifle and began heading down the stairwell, two and three stairs at a time.
****
“Looks clear,” announced Dink as Miller rejoined the group at the bottom of the stairwell.
The small ten foot square area had two doors. One lead back into the first floor of the building and was locked. For good measure it also had a large board under the handle to pry it shut thanks to Dink and Webb. The other door, already open, led into the street. The bulb to the light hanging over the entrance, had been removed earlier in the evening leaving the area darkened.
Miller nodded. “Ok, get out of there then. I’m right behind you.”
As if to reinforce the direction, someone turned the knob on the door from inside the building into the stairwell. Without hesitation, a voice yelled out in Ukrainian before attempting to force this door much like the one leading into Kirilinko’s office.
“They know something wrong,” whispered Miller. “Go, get out of here.”
Without a word, Dink and Webb shoved their prisoners into the street.
Miller removed the final charge from the knapsack. Tossing the empty bag to the side, he placed the charge like the others.
When people face a sudden problem, an obstacle to their progress, it is human nature to suddenly focus on it. It becomes an obsession and the instinct is to solve the problem before moving on. It was this piece of genetically engineered human nature that Miller hoped would buy them time to escape. He figured in the confusion of the night, and without a strong hand at the control, Kirilinko’s men would follow this same pattern and focus on the locked doors.
All it would take would be one savvy leader, one man with experience, to send soldiers around the outside of the building and they’d all be dead.
He hoped he had gambled wisely as he exited the building and descended the short flight of stairs.
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