Forgotten Forbidden America | Book 7 | Highway To Hell, page 12
part #7 of Forgotten Forbidden America Series
“Do you accept my offer of letting me ask for volunteers?” Isaac asked. “Mom, I’ll do what you want because you’re my mom, but I can’t leave the service because you’re my president. All the brass has asked me to transfer to a rear job just because you’re president, but I refused. For you, I’ll do it, Mom, but let me get some devil dogs and do it right. Marines have protected the leader of the free world a long time,” he reminded her.
“You better tell me you put a few of those traitors to the stake when you crossed,” Brandy said, narrowing her eyes.
Scoffing, “Hell, yeah!” Isaac sang out. “I used up three disposable lighters, I lit so many fires.”
Thinking for several seconds, “Okay, you can ask for volunteers and set up a group to assign here,” Brandy said then turned around to Andrea. “Andrea, go type up an order for my son please, so I can sign it.”
Giving a nod, Andrea scurried off and Isaac turned to his mom. “Where’s Doug?” Isaac asked about Pam’s husband who had left the Navy before the collapse to design ships.
“Houston,” Brandy answered. “He’s on the design teams building ships, and even puts in time welding.”
“I can’t believe my mom went from governor to president,” Isaac grinned.
Not seeing anything funny about it, Brandy scowled. “After Fern recovers, I’m kicking his ass. At least I know when I get out of jail, I can’t be president again.”
***
It was the dead of night and Reaper was not a happy camper. He tensed up as the speed boat went airborne for the thousandth time. When the boat hit the water, Reaper swore he tasted his asshole at the back of his throat. Gripping the seat he was strapped into, Reaper started thinking about ways to drain the damn water from the Atlantic.
They were off the Virginia coast but even if Reaper could look west, the land was well out of eyesight now. At dusk, they had launched two of the boats they had hidden along the coast that angels were keeping under watch. There were only two power boats this time and ten Sin Eaters. Knowing damn well he would have to drug Zeus to get on the boats again, Reaper had left him with Titan.
Stingray was at the controls with the throttle wide open and the other boat was a hundred yards to his right. Watching the other boat ramp off a wave, Reaper tensed up for the referred pain he felt for those about to land. When the boat landed, Reaper still found it hard to believe the boats weren’t breaking apart. In the moment, he wouldn’t have minded because he wouldn’t have had the ocean slap him around like a little bitch.
There was no doubt that the ocean was much rougher in November than when they’d crossed in late spring. Feeling the weight of gravity hit him, Reaper tensed up as the boat left the water. Crashing back down, Reaper cringed, then felt the boat go airborne again.
Hitting the water, spray washed over them as Stingray kept the boat on course. “You don’t have to ramp every fucking wave in the ocean!” Pain screamed. Reaper wanted to agree with her but was scared to open his mouth, expecting his asshole would fall out.
Sitting beside Stingray was Ubiytsa, who looked calm and collected like this was enjoyable. On the other side of Reaper was Misery, and Reaper wouldn’t even turn to look at her because the last time he did Misery was asleep, despite the fact the boat continually tried to leave earth’s orbit. Not liking the fact other Sin Eaters didn’t find this ride gruesome, Reaper started thinking of stupid things for them to do just to appease a sense of justice to him.
When Stingray pulled back on the throttle Reaper had never been so relieved in his life, and really started thinking about letting one of the other captains lead waterborne missions from now on. It wasn’t long until Reaper saw a large dark shape bobbing in the ocean.
“That damn boat better give a superior ride than this piece of shit,” Pain grumbled.
“When we return to our old lives,” Misery said, suddenly awake, “I’m telling Daddy you’re a complete pussy on the water.”
“I’m kicking him in the nuts for riding on this shit for so long!” Pain replied.
Patting the power boat’s frame, “Boat is good and very expensive,” Ubiytsa informed Pain.
Jerking her glare to Ubiytsa, “Listen, you communist motherfucker, I don’t care what it costs, the boat is a piece of shit! Why anyone would spend that kind of money to get the hell beat out of them is beyond me! Take up MMA! You get beat to a pulp, maybe make some money, but you’re on dry land!” Pain shouted. Listening to that, Reaper was tempted to paint more teeth on Pain’s mask because she had sound reasoning powers.
“Hey, if we were doing the original attack, we would be stuck on these boats another six hours. Hit the targets, then six hours back,” Misery pointed out.
“The damn ships come to land! Why do we have to go to them?” Pain cried out, but turned to Reaper for the answer.
Swallowing his asshole that was stuck in the back of his throat, “Close to land, the feds have assets that can respond and on the ocean isn’t really an area I want to fight on, even close to shore,” Reaper answered and Pain narrowed her eyes.
“Hello! The damn ships dock! We’ve been inside the port and even on one of the ships! They park near land! We don’t have to go after them on the water!”
Striking the idea of painting teeth on Pain’s mask from his mind, “You volunteered,” Reaper reminded her.
“Duh!” Pain sang out. “You were going, and be damned if I was going to listen to the ‘Little Mermaid’ beside you talk shit about me not coming!”
“The others are still hitting targets and training,” Reaper said. “On land,” he added. “I could’ve left Zeus with you.”
A wave hit throwing spray over them, only darkening Pain’s and Reaper’s mood. “Where Reaper goes, Pain and Misery go,” Pain told him. “I better get to gut some shit-stains.” Nobody was about to point out that if the attack went the way it was planned, then the Sin Eaters would never engage in combat.
Ahead, the dark shape started to come into focus and Reaper could now make out USS Oakland, an Independence class littoral coastal ship. The Republic had done a fair job of sinking many of the ships in the reserve fleet, but concentrated on ‘deep water’ ships. Some of the Independence class were still active, but most had been put in the reserve fleet. From all Reaper could find out, the ships were good but the money men had convinced congress and admirals with bribes and kickbacks that other, newer ships were needed.
“Wonder if they had any trouble taking the ship over?” Misery asked.
“Yeah, they could’ve waited,” Pain snapped. “At the very least, it would’ve made getting my tits shoved into my knees a little worth it.”
Turning to Pain, “Water is good,” Ubiytsa told her.
“You ever see Red Dawn, fucker? Because I’m about to go Wolverine on your commie ass,” Pain warned, and Reaper was tempted to encourage her.
“America was able to remain free so long because this water,” Ubiytsa pointed out. “You should like it in very less.”
Letting out a long groan, “In the very least!” Pain cried out. “Talk American, bitch!”
Cocking his head to the right and looking off, “Less, least,” Ubiytsa mumbled, then turned to Pain. “They mean same, so you can use one or other.”
“Only a commie would say some shit like that,” Pain snapped, then Ubiytsa ripped off in Russian and Pain responded in kind. “See? I can speak your language correctly because I’m not a commie.”
Narrowing his eyes, “Water to you is like green rock is to Superman,” Ubiytsa told her.
Jerking her head back, “Damn,” Pain said as another wave sprayed them. “That was good,” she admitted. “Okay, you’re not a commie all the time, only when you say stupid shit.”
“I can call you a commie then a lot of the time,” Misery chuckled.
Snapping her eyes to the side of Reaper’s mask, “Permission to stomp my sister’s ass?” Pain begged.
Again, Reaper was teleported to his past life, driving a suburban and hearing little voices behind him. “Daddy, she’s looking at me.” “He’s touching my side!”
“Denied,” Reaper sighed.
“You can make head hurt like someone had sex with it,” Ubiytsa told Pain, only to make her groan again.
“Okay, that did sound commie,” Misery admitted. “Like someone skull-fucked you,” she offered, then she and Ubiytsa conversed in Russian as Stingray headed toward the bow of the ship. “No,” Misery finally said. “When you say it like you did, at the very least, people will think you rape dogs.”
At that, Ubiytsa turned to Reaper. “Some days I not like sisters,” he said.
Holding up his hands, “Okay, none of you are allowed to talk to each other for ten minutes,” Reaper snapped and saw all three raise hands, talking in sign. “No communication of any kind or all three of you will swim back,” he warned.
“I won’t be in a fucking boat,” Pain popped off.
“Pain,” Stingray chuckled, easing the throttle back more. “We’re eighty miles out.”
“Fuck if I care,” she responded as the bow bay door opened. The interior lights were on but very dim. Stingray shut down the engine as the boat eased up to touch the ship. Unbuckling from his chair, Ubiytsa tossed over a rope and Pain pushed him to the side and jumped into the bay door.
Before Ubiytsa could complain, Reaper passed by him, jumping into the open bay door. “Some people aren’t meant for the Navy,” Stingray chuckled.
“Keep on, Stingray, and you’ll carry an ATV on your back to the next attack,” Reaper warned, seeing a few dozen men kneeling with their hands behind their heads. Around them dressed in motley uniforms were the SEALs and Lieutenant Gomez stepped over, holding out his hand as Ubiytsa and Misery jumped aboard.
Shaking Gomez’s hand, “So, you did a maritime assault boarding?” Reaper asked with an impressed tone.
Letting Reaper’s hand go as Stingray passed bags and cases from the boat to the ship. “These guys weren’t trained by the Navy I joined,” Gomez said. “They had no roving marine patrol and none of them were armed. It was so easy, I really thought it was a trap.”
“Your boss in the spaceship?” Reaper asked, hearing the fed sailors cry out in alarm realizing Sin Eaters were there and one of the sisters was heading for them.
“No, he was on the bridge, but he’s on the way down,” Gomez answered, hearing those kneeling starting to cry. “Is she going to make a mess?” Gomez asked, nodding toward Pain.
“Not until she’s told to,” Reaper replied. “Why are they still alive? We can’t let some live that were captured by Republic troops and turned over to the vessel the Sin Eaters were in.”
Giving a long sigh, “Rules of engagement say once a combatant has surrendered, lethal force isn’t authorized,” Gomez droned.
“Only for you. That’s when the fun starts for us,” Reaper countered and was shocked to see Gomez didn’t have a problem with that.
“Glad you accepted my plan,” Captain Pearson said, coming down some stairs.
“Beats riding in those damn boats longer,” Reaper replied. “You sure you want to risk it? I’m not kidding when I tell you, you nor any of your crew better ever tell a soul we saw your spaceship.”
Shaking his head, “No, I told command that after I hooked up with the Sin Eaters at the death camp, you gave me a frequency to monitor and I wasn’t going to tell them what frequency because I didn’t want a Sin Eater visiting, and they understood that,” Pearson grinned. “Anyway, I monitor a frequency and if you need help and I could offer it covertly, I would. Admiral Wagner gave the go-ahead, but I couldn’t divulge the Kraken.”
Looking over as the other Sin Eaters unloaded their boat inside the bay, “Captain, I like the plan, but how in the hell are you going to get other ships here so we can leave?” Reaper asked.
“The Texas and her battle group will just happen to be in the area,” Pearson chuckled.
“Does this,” Reaper pointed at the ship he was standing in and then moved his finger to point at the power boat he’d arrived in that was floating away, “ride better than that?” he asked.
“Define ‘better’?” Person asked.
“Stingray was trying to ramp every wave on the planet!” Reaper shouted. “I tasted my asshole when it hit the back of my throat!”
“Yeah,” Pearson nodded, then went on to explain about sea states and what number the vessels could operate in comfortably.
Holding up a hand to stop the lesson, “Good, we’ll take this to ride home in,” Reaper said.
“Um, Reaper, I was going to get you a ride home. The reason we wanted to do this plan, it would look like the Sin Eaters captured this ship and handed it over to the Republic. We need ships like this to stop all the bootleggers running in the Caribbean.”
“Hold up!” Reaper shouted. “The only way I set foot on a boat that sinks itself, is the day I’m dead and someone is carrying my body on board! I don’t give a shit if your spaceship can go underwater! The Reaper doesn’t!”
“You tell him, Reaper!” Pain cheered.
“No. I was going to get the fleet to get you home,” Pearson said and Reaper nodded, liking that idea.
Since the SEALs were staying on the ship, “Gomez, Stingray has balaclavas that we wear at times and with us, your team will wear them. I don’t need some UAV or satellite getting a picture of a Republic SEAL operating with Sin Eaters,” Reaper told them, and they gave him a confused expression. “Doc said some Sin Eaters were getting sores because they weren’t taking their masks off and letting the skin breathe, so he passed an order that six hours, every day, a Sin Eater must wear the soft mask, what we call the balaclavas.”
“That son of a bitch hits just as hard as Jaws!” Misery shouted and the other Sin Eaters agreed.
“They need move each hit,” Ubiytsa stated. “Same place make one think strike and not reason strike happen.” Gomez and Pearson looked at each other, wondering if the other had understood that.
“You’re embarrassing me, Ubiytsa!” Pain shouted storming over. “Don’t talk commie shit like that! Say they don’t need to hit the same area each time because it makes you forget why you’re being punished. You say strike and the first thing that comes to my mind is you don’t want to work.”
Leaning to Pearson, “I’m going to agree with her on that,” Gomez whispered.
“Too many English words have too many meaning!” Ubiytsa shouted, then busted into Russian.
“Damn, that was good,” Reaper admitted, and saw Gomez and Pearson looking at him. “Trust me, it doesn’t translate to English well.”
“Can I kill the captured crew?” Pain asked, bouncing on her toes.
“Shoot ‘em in the head and toss ‘em out,” Reaper said, and Pain stopped bouncing in shock. “If we’re turning this boat over to the Patriots, I’m not turning it over looking like a slaughterhouse the sailors will have to clean.”
Stomping her foot, “At least they would know we were working!” Pain shouted. For several heartbeats, the two just locked eyes. “Okay,” Pain groaned and sulked away.
Walking past, “Glad you not give in all time to her,” Ubiytsa said cheerfully.
Again from his past, Reaper heard little voices. “He always gets what he wants!” “Uhah, you do!”
Pushing those thoughts away before he broke out his bamboo stick, “Gomez and the other SEALs know how to drive this thing?” Reaper asked.
Pointing at Stingray walking up, “Stingray can drive it,” Gomez scoffed.
“I’ve had enough of Stingray’s driving for a bit,” Reaper said and walked off.
Chuckling, “Let me get back to the Kraken, so you can get underway,” Pearson said. “Glad to see even Sin Eaters can make a commander crazy at times,” Pearson mumbled.
Chapter Nine
Hot nights in the big city
Shoving the crew chief out of the way, Marshall threw the door of the Blackhawk open and jumped out. Holding his rifle across his chest Bolton followed Marshall out, landing behind him before the helicopter touched down. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Marshall was hostile from the way he was stomping across the White House lawn in the predawn light.
Unlike any time before, Bolton moved up beside Marshall as the Blackhawk took off while keeping at treetop level heading south. “Colonel, please relax,” Bolton pleaded and Marshal came to a stop, jerking his gaze to Bolton. Seeing the hard gaze, Bolton tensed for the wrath to fall down on him.
Suddenly Marshall relaxed, taking a deep breath and slinging his own rifle across his back. “Thank you, Major,” Marshall said shocking Bolton. “I know the president panics, but he’s becoming tiresome.”
“Sir, you’re the only one he can trust and to be honest, the only one he can count on to fix problems,” Bolton pointed out and Marshall nodded.
“I know, but I can’t fix problems if he keeps bringing me more problems,” Marshall said. “Let’s go because I’m sure he’s coming undone about the casualties in D.C. I just don’t know how much the Sin Eaters have.”
“Sir, I’ve been in contact with FEMA Real-Scan every hour for the last six days and no city has reported a hot reading.”
“I know, and that bothers me,” Marshall admitted as he started walking again. “I just can’t see a few thousand in D.C. as being their target.”
Bolton had to agree as he followed Marshall inside. They had gotten word yesterday evening that there were twelve hundred cases of radiation poisoning in the D.C. area. Neither was surprised as they tried to trace down just how much the Sin Eaters could’ve gotten from the death camp. After the last lead had panned out into nothing last night, Marshall was going to start questioning the radiation exposures today, just to see if he could start narrowing down how the Sin Eaters were doing it.
When an agent led them to the Oval Office, Marshall just brushed past the agent before he knocked on the door. “What the hell are we going to do, Colonel?!” Gifford shouted before Marshall was even through the door.
