Chapter 1A

This is a fictional story regarding an invasion of the west coast of the United States by a fanatical radical religious military force. They attack the I-5 corridor of Washington State from Vancouver BC and sweep south taking all the cities along that corridor from Blaine of the northern us-Canadian border to Vancouver Washington on the Columbia River. The fighting is fierce but the occupation is worse in that they recruited drug dealers and thugs to form multiple insurgent gangs as their occupying influence. These antiestablishment gangs routinely disemboweled all US troops, police, or other authority figures caught or left behind. The females were repeatedly raped and used while many of the males were sexually mutilated and anally abused prior to being disemboweled. The male civilians were sexually mutilated and enslaved while the females were repeatedly gang raped prior to enslavement. Every one over fifty or those kids under ten, anyone grossly over weight, disabled, sick or otherwise infirmed are killed outright as not being useful slave material. By the time the invading army reached Everett the news of the type of occupation to expect was well known all down the I-5 corridor so mass suicides were common both among civilians and any military personnel that are certain to be captured.

The army formed special search and destroy units to remove potential gang members ahead of the main troop withdrawals these units normally comprised of combat hardened Special Forces personnel and K-9 handlers with dogs that are trained to spot potentially suspicious people attempting to hide from the unit as well as drugs and or explosives. The personnel forming these search and destroy units were rotated in and out on a regular basis to hopefully prevent them from becoming as hardened antisocial individuals as they were after.

The most successful areas for these search and destroy units to operate in are the more isolated island and peninsula sections of Puget Sound and the rural agricultural communities off the main highly populated parts of the I-5 corridor. Both the Olympic and the Cascade mountain ranges with their wilderness areas formed natural barriers to hold the invading force to the main I-5 corridor. Those renegades that wandered off the beaten path along the high densely populated I-5 corridor path were quickly neutralized by local gorilla action so that the thug gangs couldn't really get a god foothold in these areas making the teams even more effective in eliminating the gangs.

In the early spring about a year and a half after the first invasion of Washington the troop withdrawal had reached the banks of the Columbia River at Vancouver Washington. The US Government had written off the whole western part of Washington State and decided to make its stand on the Oregon side of the river after blowing every bridge crossing the river between the Bonneville Dam and its mouth to the Pacific Ocean.

The military demolition teams effectively leveled all the buildings in the city and all the residents that couldn't get across the river in time committed mass suicide leaving the invading forces and occupying thugs a wasteland of rubble and death.

I'm Dan a Special Forces Master Sergeant is the sole survivor of my unit assigned to provide rear guard for the withdrawing US troops to give adequate time to blow the city, get as many civilians as possible across the bridges and for us to get across before the bridges were blown. My squad was ambushed twice in the northern outskirts of the city. By some miracle I survived both ambushes with only minor flesh wounds while all of the thugs in both gangs and the rest of my squad were killed. The ambushes delayed my arrival at the river where I watched the last bridge blow and fall into the river from a vantage point over half a mile away. In stead of committing suicide right then I radioed the troops in Oregon telling them of my plight and volunteering to find a lookout vantage point in the rubble from which to spy on the invading force. Also advising them that I should have some uninhibited time because his squad had annulated two gangs of thugs on their way into town and from previous experience in other cities to the north there are normally only two active gangs per city.

I cast about on the highest ground which afforded a view of both the river in the south and I-5 approach in the north for a suitable pile of rubble to hide in. I located what was once a large multi story building with concrete roof deck and floors that had been collapsed into a pile with the roof and floor diaphragms still pretty much in one piece and with a relative large secure clearable space below them. I found an entrance at what had once been the loading dock with a metal panel that was the door to the mechanical equipment room and utility tunnel which provided space to crawl in under the stack of cement diaphragms. As an added bonus there were slots in the rubble that provided good useable view ports to both the north and to the south. The central ex-lobby area provided a relatively large un-demolished area to setup a camp in. After he radioed in his position to the Oregon military command I sat back to relax for a while.

About an hour after his position transmission he heard some noise outside in the rubble on the northern side of his location. He raised his weapon ready to fire through the lookout slot. What he saw caused him to hesitate. First he saw a German Shepard queue in on his lookout slot followed shortly by a pair of army combat boots topped by Army combat camouflage pants. Not releasing my grip on my weapon I yelled out "WHO GOES THERE SQUAT AND BE RECONIZED IMMEDIATELY!"

A face appeared outside the slot in the rain answering my hail "Oh my god Dan is that you Command said that a single GI had reported in from this general position but failed to give a name or a location coordinates. We missed getting across the last bridge also and were directed here to assist you in your lookout duty so we have been searching the rubble for another stranded GI.

"Jan is that really you and is that Shasta with you Good God if I have to be trapped on this side of the river there is no one in the world better to be trapped with." Hearing Dan's voice call out her name Shasta's tail started going like a plane propeller she is positive now that she had located and queued on her human pack's Alpha-male. Now with her Alpha-female beside her her pack is complete all together once again this made her the hippest dog on the planet. Yipping for joy she attempted to crawl through the lookout slot to get to him.

As a team of Dan, Jan, and Shasta are one of the most productive search and destroy and special combat team in the Western Washington Command. Shasta had taken to Dan as her pack's Alpha-male and second handler. Most K-9s will respond to only a single handler/master but in Shasta's case Dan and Jan had meshed together like real pack dual Alpha leaders so she responded to either one individually or both as if they were a single individual handler. Even though their relationship is truly a plutonic friendship (due to military regulations more than personal choice) Jan also feels that Dan is her Alpha-male counter part and Dan feels that Jan is his corresponding Alpha-female counter part. They are extremely and deeply in love with each other even without any open expression of their feelings or the more traditional physical act of sexual love.

I direct Jan to go around to the North-East corner of the rubble pile to where the loading dock area once stood saying that I would meet them there. Shasta continued to try to get at me through the slot until I directed her to go with Jan which she promptly did.

They were waiting there when I finally pushed away the crumpled remains of the mechanical room door to allow them access. Once inside I replaced the crumpled door once again obscuring the entrance while Shasta shook the accumulated rain water off her coat jumping up on her rear legs to greet me. Jan shook my hand in a friendly semi military greeting. I led Jan through the utility tunnel to my camp in the lobby area of what once was an office tower following way behind Shasta who ran ahead following my scent trail.

Jan set up her bed roll next to mine with space for Shasta' blanket between them as is our normal pattern when bivouacking while on a team patrol. I noticed that the left sleeve of Jan's shirt is bloody and she is favoring that arm. At the same time Jan spotted the blood soaking through multiple places on my shirt and pants from his wounds. Being closer to her field pack she pulled out her First-Aid kit to take care of my wounds neglecting her own wounds. I stopped her as she moved over to care for me saying "your left arm appears to be the most injured item between us; you can think about dressing my wounds after I take care of that arm soldier. Having my concerns for her wound put it that way, reminded Jan that we are still a military squad and that I out rank her so she submissively removes her shirt to allow me access to the wound on her arm.

I finds that she has been grazed by either a piece of shrapnel or a bullet which has also made a shallow cut across her ribs on her back slightly under her bra strap. I cleaned; field stitched and dressed her arm then informed her of the scratch on her back under her bra strap. She told me to go a head and remove her bra so I unsnapped it to put some anti-bacterial ointment and bandage in it saying "You should leave the bra off for a few days to give this time to heal. Do you have a clean shirt that I can get for you?"

She said "I'll get it; you have done enough for me already. Does this mean that you don't like the view?"

I comment "Jan I have been dreaming about you and getting an opportunity to have this kind of view ever scene we meet for our first training assignment over a year ago. I realize that you are probably very sensitive about the small size of your breasts because the popular concept that a woman's worth is equal to their breast size. Personally I feel that any person's worth originates in their mind and personality not in the size or shape of a woman's breasts. What I see and believe your (as I picks up her bra and reads the size label) 'B-Cup' breasts matches your physical body shape and personality perfectly. I think that you have a very perfect body in all aspects. I perceive that you are a beautiful and very desirable woman. If we ever get out of this situation alive I would like the opportunity to take you out on a romantic date where we could legitimately share a lot more than this topless view. I would wish for a complete view of that lovely body of yours along with a lot of intimate contact but for the time being we are still in the US Army with a mission to attend to."

She gets her clean shirt puts it on blushing at his comment. Then she orders me to strip my bloody shirt and pants off so she can attend to my wounds now. As I sit on my bed roll in only my Government Issue skivvies she cleans and dresses my wounds finding that none are as deep, as large, or as serious as her arm wound. "Dan if we ever get out of this situation alive I accept your invitation to that romantic date. From my present perspective this view of you is better than any of my wildest dreams that I have been having about you. Now you better get dressed before I loose my will power and jump your beautiful but injured bones right here and now."

About that time they hear some noise from outside and move to the slots I take the North and Jan takes the South which is closer to their campsite. Using hand signals we direct Shasta to lay and be quite. I spot a single scout vehicle that is traveling south toward the river on the parallel roads because I-5 is un-passable. Jan sees that it goes to the river's edge at the base of what was once the interstate bridge and turns around heading back north. I put on clean pants and shirt while Jan radios in the activity report that she has joined forces with me and describes the action of the scout vehicle. The lookouts of the other side of the river have also spotted the scout vehicle and our report confirms what they saw and what they suspected that the main attack force is located somewhere out of sight toward the north city limits probably waiting out the worst of the rain before moving south. Now that the bridges are gone there is no great rush to reach the river bank so command figures that they can take their time moving through what was once Vancouver, WA.

They ask for her exact location but she hesitates glancing at me and I shake my head. I come to the radio telling them that this contact has already compromised our location with the present length and content of this transmission and that we are now on the move to a new location. It may be some time before we contact Oregon Command again. After shutting down the radio I ask "Jan what do you think? Just now they acted more like they want us caught than they want further information I think that from now on we are on our own."

Jan agrees with my assessment of the situation saying "Your squad may have taken out two gangs this mourning but based upon past performance there will be at least one more gang operating in this place by tomorrow mourning with the specific instructions search us out and kill us hopping to trap us here till we are caught, starve to death, and/or commit suicide. Teamed with you again I have way too much to live for to be willing to just sit here and do nothing as living decoys for any origination that doesn't respect either our position or welfare. I'm all for packing it in right now and heading east toward the Cascades maybe we could find a way to get across them to rejoin the military. We may possibly have a chance at a future together but if we stay here were much longer we're nothing but dead meat."

Before she finishes her speech I'm already starting to pack-up as well as is she is as she talked. As soon as we finished packing I went to the North lookout slots where I noticed movement on the far edge of my field of vision. Time wise it was dusk and the setting sun (which was peaking out though some of the western clouds) was being reflected off rain slick helmets and gun barrels of troops on the move. I ask Jan to bring both the night glasses and the binoculars. Using the visual aids we see that the main body of the attack force is on the move south and that as they pass any relative large rubble (larger than a small single family residence) they are using a flame thrower to set fire to the debris in each rubble pile. We exchange quick looks and Jan runs her finger across her throat in a cutting action saying "were out of here."

The space under the rubble quickly became too dark to see their way around without some light. In total darkness like we have under the rubble away from the view ports the night vision glasses are useless. We followed Shasta out of the rubble pile through the old mechanical room. Once in the loading dock I replaced the crumpled mechanical room door so it was not real obvious that they had been there. Once away from that rubble stack we kept low to the southern side of any high ground or larger rubble piles heading in an easterly.

After we had travel over about a mile we found two useable bicycles which we use to speed our progress east. When we reached a hollow about four miles east of our rubble hideout I keyed up the radio and informed Oregon Command that the attack force is on the move south being lead by a foot soldier force who are setting the rubble piles aflame as they pass presumably to kill us.

I was on the air less than 30 seconds (which was too short to get a good position fix) not waiting or acknowledging a response before getting underway again. Oregon Command attempted multiple times to acknowledge the transmission and raise us again but we were already off the air and a quarter mile from where we sent the message. Jan monitored the radio channel on her ear bug and later commented how hard they tried to get us to answer their calls. We both imaged how badly the enemy wanted us to key-up our radio so they could get a fix on our position.

We were able to cross I-205 on NE Fourth Plain Blvd without being seeing anyone with our night vision glasses. We traveled east-north-east as fast as we could on what appeared to be larger arterial roads until we until we reached a gas station convince store on the outskirts of the city which appeared that it was still open using Coleman lanterns and a portable generator. The owner/operator would not accept any money or trade goods from us saying that they supported the troops as much as possible. They warned us about a gang of thugs operating in the general area and told us that to get through the mountains to the east we would need horses and that they have friends up the road that may be willing to help us with some horses. They showed us on a map how to find their ranch and said that the phone system is out so they wrote a letter of introduction for us. Shasta is so well behaved that they welcomed her into their store and fed her some caned food and filled a dish with water for her as we talked. We shared the news from Vancouver and the I-5 corridor north and the general actions of the local gangs in the other cities. They produced two pump action 12ga shotguns each plus hand guns saying that they were not as well armed as we are but that if someone wants a piece of them they will defiantly take a piece out of their attackers first. For them suicide is a last resort after all ammunition has been expended and all other options have been exhausted as well.

As we approached the ranch Shasta alerted on the ranch area. Jan and I ditched our bikes and our packs taking only our collection of arms and associated ammunition with us. With Shasta's help and direction we moved in on the ranch house where Shasta indicated that the main house building is clear of people so we went through it finding two abused and tortured dead bodies that we assumed were the ranch owners and the friends of the convince store owners.

Shasta lead us out to the barn where she alerted us to the existence of some people in the barn. Jan and Shasta went around to the far side and got ready to enter. She keyed the mike and blew once into it which is our prearranged signal to that she is ready to go (the mike is keyed too short a time to enable a trace and the message is normally unrecognizable from background static noise). I keyed mine making two distinct blows into it and moved to the barn's man door flinging it wide open, stepping through and backing solidly into the wall beside the door with his automatic assault riffle level and ready to fire. Simultaneously at the other end of the barn Jan entered using the same exact move and was also ready to fire. Shasta hearing the double blow from me jumped through the partially open door before Jan an opportunity to fling it open and enter and went for an open stall about the middle of the building attacking the first thug that stuck his head out into the central run passageway in the center of the barn. Shasta's attack sparked both Jan's and my attack runs down the barns central passageway. Shasta let go of the thug as soon as he hit the ground and charged into the stall barely ahead of Jan. I hit the thug in the face with his gun butt and followed Jan into the stall to find a very spooked male colt and six more tuffs grouped around him in the stall. When faced with a angry 70+ Lb German Shepard and two army troops with assault weapons at the ready they give-up immediately and got face down on the stall floor with their arms and legs widely spread as directed.