Eden's Hammer - By Lloyd Tackitt Page 0,57
was watching finished packing up and starting to move out, Roman fired two times, dropping two men. He then evacuated the area using the tree line. When he got to the bog, he circled around it and followed a dry wash to another heavily forested area and started moving back toward the raiders again. When he achieved a visual on another of their groups, he could tell he wasn’t going to the rendezvous that night. They were stirred up like a kicked-over fire ant nest; his and his compadres’ ambushes were definitely working. Instead of trying to slip through, he eased in closer and shot two more, then quickly moved back. Hell, I can keep this up as long as I have ammo, and I have plenty of, he thought as he began circling back for another shot or two. Roman was enjoying having the entire backfield to himself. It gives me a lot more latitude. No pun intended.” He thought.
That evening Perry, Tim, and Matt rejoined by the little waterfall. Once they were together, they sat down to eat the cold ration bars that Sarah’s team had put together. They weren’t very tasty, but they packed a big calorie load and served their purpose.
Tim was the first to comment on Roman’s absence. “I hope he got lost again, I’d hate like hell if he got killed. He never did have a good sense of direction. Damned old fool could get lost in a phone booth.”
Matt replied, “I heard shooting from back behind their lines; I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t wander right through them in the dark and found himself stuck back there behind them.”
Tim added, “I’ve seen him get lost in San Angelo, of all places, and more than once. Simple little town like that, and he’d get lost like he was down in the fucking Amazon Basin without a compass. I’m with Matt—I thought I heard gunfire behind them and was thinking it had to be that damn Roman; who else could be back there? Hells bells, who else would be back there but him? It’s just the sort of stunt he likes to pull. If he’s smart, he’ll stay back there and keep hitting them from behind. Pretty good idea, too, making them watch their six as well as their twelve. He better be back there, dammit, or I’ll beat the shit out of him when he shows up.”
MARCH 27, EARLY EVENING
Adrian sat on the ground with a map across his lap. He had just received the latest scout reports and sent the scouts back out. He pointed at a spot on the map that showed two hills near each other.
Adrian said, “Bollinger, let’s go over the plan again. We’re going to use these two hills and the draw between them. Rex’s men are east of them a mile or so right now. He’s pulled his men in a bit closer together, thanks to the ambush team, but they are still too spread out to suit this operation. I’ve gone over every strategy and tactic that I can think of, knowing Rex knows all of them, too. I’m hoping that he is expecting us to do something fancy and tricky—that’s usually the way his mind works. So we’re going to do something simple and as old as war itself.
“We’re going to use Sioux battle tactics. Hit them with a small force, engage them, and then suddenly run in panic to get them to give chase into our real ambush. The trick is to not give them time to think about it, so the attack will be close to the ambush spot, maybe two hundred yards. I’ll lead the hit team and then pull back through the draw between these two hills. Our main body will be split into four groups, one on each hill, one right here on the west end of the draw, and the fourth, led by you, will be hidden on the east side of the north hill. As soon as the last of Rex’s men passes by, you move in behind them and plug the rear of the draw. We’ll have them surrounded with two of those positions, having the advantage of height. From there, it stays just as simple: everyone fires at their own discretion, picking them off.
“Rex will have two options: stand and fight, which I doubt; or gather his men close and charge one of the groups to try and overrun them and get out of the ambush