Welcome to River City, pt. 2
Jimmie Willis poured through the protocol books, hoping one day he’d memorize everything he was required. His partner never showed up to work, which only meant his workload had just doubled and he wondered if he could keep in contact with so many teams on a continuous frequency movement. He kept peering over the GPS signals each vehicle was letting off, tracking each of their movements on the paper maps he kept just as the protocols demanded. Everything was going just as it should, until the cursor with the letter “E” vanished from his screen.
“Echo one team leader, this is Jericho, how copy?”
He waited a moment; rolled his eyes when he saw they should be close to the park the trigs usually took their break on the school patrol.
“Echo one team leader, how copy?”
Another moment passed.
“Echo one, your GPS is offline, please report your current location.”
A sickness welled in the pit of the dispatcher’s stomach, and not taking the proper judgment he spun his chair too fast to move himself around, “Sir, I have lost contact with Echo team. What do you suggest we do?”
The desk sergeant rolled his chair through the maze of radio operators and placed his hands on the top of the wheels to stop just shy of staring the young man down, “Echo Team, team leader?” He spoke into his own microphone after plugging in his connector into the new guys’ display. “Williams, get off your ass and respond!”
Sergeant Fitzgerald — or Fitz, as everyone knew him — turned his head slowly and probably felt the same sickness as the dispatcher whose name he routinely forgot. He yanked his cord from the display and pushed his hands forward, propelling his chair forward not caring who had to move out of his way. The wheel-chair bound sergeant nearly pound down the door of his immediate supervisor, the fat ass lieutenant that could hardly lift a finger let alone make a fast decision. “Sir, we need to dispatch the recover patrol, now!”
The fat old man sighed and got to his feet, much too slowly for the wheel chair confined sergeant, “What’s the problem Fitz, it’s probably another false alarm, you know these Trigs, they’re either out looking for something to shoot or chewing down their free coffee and doughnuts.”
“You ignorant shit head, Echo team is non-responsive.”
“They’re at the school.”
“Yeah, the school.” The sergeant spat back, “Recovery team, now!”
* * *
Another volley of whistling projectiles came down again, this time only meters from their current positions. The River City cops, hunkered down two behind the vehicle and three others scattered about not far from the next man. They were firing at ghosts; they couldn’t fathom where their targets were shooting from, let alone catch a stray glimmer that might give away their positions. All they knew were the rockets were originating from the North, but who knew if they weren’t remote control?
All five were shouting orders at the next guy, a sixth voice totally silent. The latest explosion rumbled the ground they thought safe enough, dust rained down on them from the partially exposed walls and all of them knew there was no safety where they were. “This ain’t goin well!”
Another man fired off three shots, the recoil pushing his rifle further into his chest, “Tell me something I don’t fucking know!”
“Building 25 yards behind us, maybe it’ll provide cover?”
“Doubt it,” he paused to return fire. “University satellite campus, the jocks sleep there.”
“Ah fuck, why did we turn down this road?”
A howling filled the air behind them, even vocalizing over the ringing of their rifles. Another two voices started screaming, “Damn, damn, damn!”
“You know, I’m starting think our chances with the rockets are looking up.”
Corporal Stines spits out the tobacco that formerly held tightly between his front teeth and his bottom lip. Rolling his eyes and exchanging his old magazine for a new one, “we have two choices then. We contend with the rockets, or the Jocks. Do we take a vote on that?”
“Rockets!” Officer Smith and Officer Prodic called out in unison, “Fuck the jocks, they’re only looking to kill a couple cops!”
Stines mutters to himself, “yeah and the rockets are our best friends.” He shook out the second thoughts rolling through his brain, everything that told him not to move forward, “Exchange mags, I want everyone will a full load before we move!”
He took a look back at the vehicle, burning with Williams body still inside. His heart sank when he knew there was nothing they could do for him, but he needed to keep the rest of them alive long enough for the recovery patrol. “Prodic, Smith, get ready to move!”
“Ready!” The two youngest members of the team shouted.
“Blitz, Rochester, follow my lead and lay down covering fire. Boys keep your heads low!”
There were no further words needed, the howling in the distance was heard one more time and the group was starting to grow, “Go!”
The two officers tucked their heads down and bolted forward, keeping their movements short and sprinting hard they found cover behind an Oldsmobile parallel parked against an expired meter. The two young men gasped for breath and took position and started laying in their own course of fire. Rochester bolted past them, lugging his heavy machine gun forward and stumbling to the prone and laying down fire. Another moment passed and Stines and Blitz joined the two youngest at their Oldsmobile position. “I need a forward scout, Prodic, you’re my fastest.”
“Gotcha Robbie, I’m on it!”
He bolted forward, his weapon pounding his chest each time he took a step but the pain was only minor against his body armor. From grass to concrete, Prodic looked for the first thing he could use as cover as the ground started exploding with bullets all around him. He zigged and zagged, but his chest started to burn, he held up as best he could but there weren’t many steps left in him. He took cover against a children’s playground, not the best of positions in terms of cover, but two-hundred fifty yards to his left he could see a staging area where three men were setting up their mortar position. “Robbie, I got foot mobiles about two fifty yards in front of me.”
The short-range radio squawked, “Gotcha Prodic, can you scout a position?”
“Yeah, let me…”
Automatic fire rang in the distance just as Stines listened in to the broken radio call. “Fuck!” Prodic called out forgetting his radio etiquette. “My fucking leg man, what the fuck!”
The hot mic engaged when Prodic dropped his radio, Stines could hear every expletive until his voice completely stopped. “God damn it.”
Smith and Blitz were the first to volunteer, “We’ll get him, he’ll bleed out if we don’t get him!”
The howling dissipated and finally Robbie Stines mind cleared, well only half of it. “The patrol should be here.” He spoke up and the rest of the guys didn’t want to say anything, and just as well when Rochester retreated from his forward position, holding onto his shoulder trying like hell to stunt the blood.
“Let me know when Lieutenant Fat-ass gets off his fat-ass, and I’ll do some fucking jumping jacks.”
Stines looked on as he tried to get Prodic back on the radio, but there was no use. “Smith, keep pressure on Rochester get the bleeding to stop. Blitz, covering fire. I’m going after Prodic.”
“Robbie, that ain’t the best idea…”
Rochester stopped when he saw the hurt in Smith’s eyes. “No, it isn’t the greatest idea, but I’m not leaving Prodic out there like Williams. Give me some dignity, will ya?”
Stines put down the assault rifle and opted to change to his secondary weapon, the .45 ACP strapped to his right leg. If he had to carry Prodic out, a rifle would just get in the way. “To sound totally cliché, cover my ass, I’m going in!”
[To be Continued]