GWOT II - Creeping Death (part 1)

GWOT II - Creeping Death


"Wildfire defense is precision high speed landscaping."

"It is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war."


We have a huge problem.

The site is surrounded by grassland. We haven't mowed it. We've focused our landscaping efforts on food production.

As I watch the bombs arcing through the air, from a known dead spot in our hill sniper coverage, I realize how thoroughly we have been fucked.

If we do what the plans call for us to do, we are all dead.

That means of course that our plans are compromised.

No time for that now. I break squelch.

"Echo 18, all assets. I am assuming direct Incident Command. This is the Firebomb incident. I repeat, this is the Firebomb incident. I am retaining Incident Command. Break. Firebomb Actual to all Fire Brigade personnel, NEGATIVE RESPONSE REPEAT DO NOT RESPOND, copy back at once!"

"Copy negative response," Janine says quietly on the tactical net. She must be convinced that I have completely lost my mind. "What is our assignment?"

"Civil Defense Plan Four."

"Four? Confirm FOUR?"

"Confirmed four."

I have just told the firefighters to take themselves and their equipment to hard cover, take no action except in direct self defense, and ignore any other need including firefighting, rescue and casualties.

They will comply. But they will complain bitterly.

Then again, they will be alive to complain.

The rest of this I'm going to do on the phone. So I use the receptionist desk phone to call Security Control.

"Echo 18, give me combat patch."

This is something new. Think of it as a conference call, where every security telephone at every post transmits what I am saying over the speakerphone.

"Patched."

"All assets. We are under indirect fire from firebombs, presumably Molotov shotgun mortars, in the dead space beyond Post 6. I also presume that enemy heavy snipers are emplaced in positions 14, 22, 51 and 62. The enemy intent is to kill firefighters who respond to the grass fire.

"My intent as incident command is to protect human life, protect the structures and punish the enemy. Henry Five, you are compromised. Pull your guns and retreat to alternate site Henry Four Brave corner. Light smoke pot when you are evacuated. All perimeter patrols are cancelled until further notice. Patrols will assemble as a strike force in the lee of Building C dock. Motor Pool, do you copy?"

"Motor Pool copy."

"I need one armored truck sent to C dock and one armored truck sent to Hidden Valley, immediately."

"Confirm Hidden Valley?" the voice raises an octave.

"Confirmed. Break. EOD, are you on the net?"

"Mo here. Cafe."

"I need you to link up with the truck going to Hidden Valley and start rigging incendiaries. If you can, link up with at least one firefighter as well."

"Copy."

"Reaction Actual, do you copy?"

"Here," he growls.

"Under no circumstances shall you respond assets outside your buildings. A major enemy intent is to kill your personnel. I am therefore retaining Incident Command in violation of doctrine. Assemble your forces, defend your zones, but do not expose yourselves to the sniper duels."

"Copy. We will discuss this."

"Understood. Break. Control, page all off duty security to the armory to draw rifles per SOP."

The problem is that the Reaction Force is organized somewhere between light infantry and a police SWAT team. Four to six gun toters with short range rifles, what would be considered assault rifles except for lack of happy switches. Great for combat within 300 yards. Totally unsuited for this fight.

Every security force member authorized to carry a rifle has been trained as what past generations would call a sharpshooter. And to the extent possible, they have been trained on heavy rifles. No standardization, only qualification cards. But most are Q carded for at least three different rifles, and are dangerous to at least 600 yards.

I am going to deploy them in pairs. And I'm going to lose some of them.

"Break. Janine, you at a phone yet?"

Silence.

"Control, give me a page. White Helmet to the white courtesy phone."

The PA announcement booms across the campus and echoes in the hills.

"Janine here."

"We are going to deploy to protect you and your firefighters as you set backfires according to the general intent of the Wildfire Defense Plan. DO NOT USE ANY SPECIFIC LOCATION. I believe all of our printed emergency plans are known to the enemy."

The reply is brief and intensely ... biological.

We are playing a game we've never played before, making it up as we go along.

The one thing that would save our lives right now is heavy indirect fire. If we had our own rockets or mortars, we could really fuck up this attacker.

But that wouldn't be OK with Homeland. They'd confiscated the mortar we'd captured.

We could have mined the dead zone from which the firebombs were being launched. But no, that would be too dangerous, as well as extremely illegal.

"Hold what we've got. We're going to go offensive, just not yet."

We're going to wait for dark, when our night vision advantage negates the enemy snipers.

Or enough smoke. That may work too.

I end the combat patch and call Landscaping.

They are the most abused, neglected department in the company. Pre Firecracker, they maintained irrigation systems, petted trees, trimmed bushes and dealt with employees who had nothing better to do but criticize their work.

Post Firecracker, they dig trenches, fill sandbags, maintain our defenses, grow our food, deal with our human waste. They also dig graves. People who have proved to be useless in any other role can still push a shovel. Half of the guards I've fired out of my department have ended up in Landscaping. So have most of our security risks, including three former prisoners who graduated.

Now I'm going to ask them for more.

I'm going to ask them to save us all.