Chapter 17: The Fall of Troy

Simon had just gotten off the phone with General Manlius. It was 2300 and it was time to go to work. Calmly, Simon packed the reference material and equipment he would take with him. When he had policed the suburbs of Washington DC, his equipment had been basic: sturdy web gear, carbon fiber body armor, and a 9 mm pistol.

Now, with the resources of the government at his disposal, he was a one man army. In addition to his high velocity.50 caliber bolt gun and lightweight body armor, his combat vest housed more electronics than had sent the first man to the Moon. Powering up, Simon synchronized his satellite-guided navigation system and made sure that the battery level for his integrated computer system was at 100%.

The waiting was finally over, he thought. As he reviewed the plan and its contingencies, his personal cell phone unexpectedly came to life. Reaching over to his nightstand, he answered it.

"Simon, is that you?" The sound Arabella's voice froze his guts.

"Yes. Where are you? Granny said you had taken a few days off. But that was weeks ago."

"Oh Simon. I've made a big mistake. I was mad at you. You'd gone away for business again and left me." Simon could tell that she'd been drinking. The words poured out of her.

"So where are you?" His voice carried a note of worry.

"I came to a place called Eastville with a guy named Paris. I didn't know that there was a war going on here. Simon. I'm so scared."

Simon's heart stopped beating. Three things were immediately obvious: Arabella had run off with another guy; Paris was one of the top rebel commanders in the southern sector; and that Eastville was only two miles from the front line that the government troops were going to cross in less than six hours. He wasn't sure which reason bothered him the most but at least the last two meant that Arabella was in danger.

"Look, I've got to get you out of there." Simon's brain went into overdrive.

"But how?"

"Don't worry about that. Hold on." He ran back to his desk. Knocking a stack of notes and books out of the way, he pulled a small map out of the pile. "You said you were in Eastville?"

There were four Palladium sites marked on his map- each possible landing sites. Eastville was one of them, probably not the best one, but it would do.

"Give me your address. I'll come get you."

Arabella gave him the address and some landmarks. "But how? When?"

"Don't worry. It'll be soon. Just call me if you move from there."

Simon grabbed his rucksack and ran out the door, there was no time to waste. It took some talking to convince the staff pogues of his choice of landing sites but everything was ready to go. Simon checked and double-checked his gear hoping that he'd accounted for all contingencies. Now that he would be bringing back Arabella, he had to travel light. He hoped that Arabella had the same thing in mind when she packed.

One of flotilla's Alpha boats took him up the Bay. The Alpha boats were shallow draught motorboats that had a minimum of armor and carried two turret mounted 50mm Gatling guns fore and aft. Their large inboard-outboard engines gave the Alphas the power to get in and get out of areas fast and were often used for covert insertions and reconnaissance.

The boat chief briefed Simon as they motored across the open water of the Chesapeake Bay toward the shore. "We'll drop you off here," The Chief's finger pointed to a small marshy inlet, "there's a big sandbar which makes our approach shallower than we'd like so you'll have 12 hours there before we can pick you up. If you need to get out of there any faster you'll have to walk."

The idea of trying to walk home through the battle lines wasn't very appealing. Simon resolved to plan his movements so that he got Arabella, hacked the Palladium, and got back to the pick up point in time to meet the Lieutenant's boat.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Simon said more cheerfully than he felt.

The approach to the coast went without a hitch. The boat chief cut the Alpha's engines as the crossed the sandbar, allowing the boat to coast toward the beach on the rising tide. Simon jumped over the gunwale as soon as the bow touched sand and rushed to the shelter of the marsh grass on the dunes. The boat reversed engines quietly and was already crossing the bar, on its way back out to open water, before Simon had climbed off the beach.

Simon snapped on his Night Vision Goggles and scanned the area. The NVGs displayed everything in the area in an eerie green, magnifying the light to turn night into day. The LED's in the bottom corner showed 0036. He had five hours before dawn.

Activating the navigation subsystem that was strapped to his left forearm, he checked his heads-up display. He saw three dots light up on his display: he was the little green triangle, the Palladium site was a red square, and Arabella's house was a blue diamond. The red square was about three miles to the southwest. The blue diamond would take him about a mile out of his way. He knew that he had better move out; he had a busy night ahead.

Simon walked quickly along the dark farm roads past fields of crops. Crops that may never be harvested, he thought. He moved anxiously around the isolated houses, hoping that no one looked out their window and challenged him. He reached Eastville in about an hour, having made good time despite the detours and obstacles he'd faced. Skirting the town, Simon moved cross-country to get to the Bay side beach where Arabella was living. It took him another half an hour to plod through the ploughed field.

Silently crossing the road, Simon hid behind a boarded up beach cabin and looked into the windows of Arabella's house. At first he didn't see any movement. Fearing he had the wrong house or, worse, that she had left again, Simon double checked his position from the landmarks that she'd given him over the phone. He was in the right spot. But where was she?

Suddenly, a bright flash of light from inside the house's porch blinded him. The automatic dampening of his NVGs saved his eyesight but he had to blink hard to get rid of the tears that fogged his vision. When he could finally see again, Simon saw Arabella, dressed in a light summer dress, mixing a drink from the liquor cart on the porch. Her face looked worried and her hand shook as she sloshed whiskey into the glass. Simon would like to have sat and watched her longer, but time was ticking away and it would make their escape harder if she were drunk.

Simon waited for her to turn off the porch light before he approached. Slipping up his goggles, he quietly lifted the door latch and let himself on to the porch. Staying low and, hopefully out of sight from the neighbors, he turned the doorknob and let himself into the house. The sitting room that he found himself in was empty. The noise from a radio came from under one of the doors. Simon suddenly realized that he hadn't checked to make sure that Arabella was alone. He drew his sidearm and whispered Arabella's name.

He thought quickly and moved to his left and drew the shade on the window. Still moving in the dimly lit room, Simon stepped toward the door with the radio behind it. His lips felt dry and he could hear his heart hammering in his chest. He reached out for the doorknob with his left hand.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door suddenly opened. Arabella dropped her glass and squealed at the sight of a combat equipped soldier pointing a large pistol at her.

"Stop! It's me," Simon said. He could only hope that the neighbors wouldn't come running over to investigate.

Arabella stood still, clutching her heart and trying to get control of her breathing. "Jesus Christ. You scared the shit out of me."

"I was afraid to call."

"Afraid?"

"Of who else might answer the phone."

"Oh." The look on her face said volumes. She sobbed quietly. "How can I say I'm sorry? All I want is to say I'm sorry and go home."

Out of the blue, Simon realized that his pistol was still pointed at Arabella. He quickly engaged the safety and holstered his weapon. Broken glass crunched under his boots as he moved to her and took her in his arms. He held her to him, her face resting against the rough covering of the body armor. His mouth opened but no words came out.

'What does you say to a girlfriend that ran off with another man?' he thought.

Arabella looked up into his face. She saw the inner struggle that he was having. Supporting herself on his arms, she stepped back. She brushed an errant lock of hair from her face and composed herself.

"You've every right to be angry with me," she began. "But before we say anything else I want you to know that I love you and..."

"And I love you," Simon interrupted. "We need to go through this all another time and another place." He looked at the clock on the dresser. "We've got three hours to hit the target and get our heads down."

"Where are we going?" She suddenly realized that she had forgotten to ask.

Simon slid his heads up display back into place. The red square was still more than a mile from them. "A sensor site that's a mile southwest of here."

"What does it look like?"

"Probably a small concrete building and a covered antenna."

"Like an upside down ice cream cone?"

"Yeah. Come to think of it, I guess it does."

"Then I can take you there." She grabbed her keys from the dresser. "The neighbor lets me borrow his pickup to run errands," she said cheerfully.

While Simon crouched in the dark beside a bush, Arabella "borrowed" the truck from the neighbor. He crawled into the truck bed and lay down, watching the skyline zip by as she drove him to the sensor site. Arabella slowed as they turned on to the site's gravel road.

"There are two guards ahead," she whispered through the cab window.

"Don't stop, just slow down. Distract them and I'll take them out."

Simon slid toward the back of the truck bed and over the back corner of the tailgate. He was relieved to see the place guarded by two teens rather than older, possibly wiser men. Arabella drove up to the two guards and started talking with them. She made sure that they had a good view down the neck of her dress as she leaned through the truck's window. Seeing that she was being successful, she got out of the truck and leaned against the fender, letting them see all of her.