Chapter 9

The remains of the scav fleet slid between the arms of the seawall and into the harbor, decks and rigging abristle with tense, alert crossbowmen and the occasional homemade firearm.

There was no sign of movement in the harbor, and the cautious order went out to drop anchor. The sounds of the anchors hitting the shallow bottom were enough to locate the enemy boats for the submerged special operations team. Using rebreathers that gave off no telltale bubbles, they swam in under the now stationary boats.

Of the twenty or so that they had first encountered, only thirteen remained, a couple of those already damaged in the earlier attack. Using the shadows above them as guides, the swimmers planted the last of their charges, again, just above the line of algae and barnacles that marked the usual waterline for these hulls. Even in the sheltered harbor, because of the loads they carried, that left most of the charges below the surface of the water.

With charges planted, the platoon split into two squads. Sophie led the first squad as they took up submerged positions in shoulder deep water to one side of the shortest path to shore from the enemy boats. Linda took the second squad to the mouth of the harbor, where they retrieved the machine guns and grenade launchers that they had sunk there earlier. It took only moments to get them mounted atop the seawall and the squad deployed to both sides of the entrance to the harbor.

The scavs had begun loading gear into boats for the trip to shore by the time Linda's squad was ready, so she started the party by detonating the charges planted on the enemy ships.

One after another, the ships sank to the bottom of the harbor in the wake of the blasts that opened their hulls. The harbor had not been dredged since the Sickness, and sand had accumulated, making it somewhat shallower than it was intended to be. Flat bottomed boats settled until only their superstructures were above water. Sailing vessels landed on their keels and heeled over sharply. The masts and rigging of the sailing vessels became entangled, or draped over the remaining exposed surfaces of the other boats.

From the moment the first charge went off, chaos reigned among the scavs until finally, a voice could be heard booming orders. The small boats that had been lowered to haul gear ashore were gotten under control and those that had not sunk with the ships were hastily loaded with whatever gear and weapons could be salvaged.

Sophie's squad waited until they heard the bottoms of the first boats grating on sand as they came into shallow water, before rising like ghosts from the sea and loosing a deadly barrage of automatic weapons fire into the scavs on the boats. It took several moments for the enemy to even realize where the assault was coming from and try to return fire, and by the time they did, Sophie's squad had once again melted beneath the surface. Staying under water, they moved to a new location while the scavs got crossbowmen and musketeers organized to fire at where they had been.

That was the moment that second squad opened up on them from the seawall. Machine guns and grenades ripped through the ruins of the fleet and the surviving personnel. The scavs turned and tried to face the new threat. As they did, Sophie's team once again rose above the surface, having reloaded their weapons underwater, and raked the scavs from behind. Sophie almost laughed when the only cannon that hadn't been sunk fired toward the seawall. The ball seemed to move in slow motion in the light of the burning boats, compared to the hellish fury of the modern weapons her team used.

Even in slow motion a six pound steel ball could do some damage, so she killed the crew of the cannon and shot a grenade into the structure that supported it, watching with satisfaction as the cannon's weight crashed through the weakened wood into the water below. Then she and her team once again melted beneath the waves and moved to a new location.

As they did, Colonel Wyndham's men opened up from the shore. It was over before Sophie and her team could attack a third time.

The few scavs whose bodies weren't floating on or sunk beneath the waves, dropped their weapons and raised their hands as Sophie's squad rose once more with weapons ar the ready.

"Cease fire," Wyndham's voice came through her earpiece. "All units, cease fire."

"First Squad," Sophie said into her throat mic, keeping her weapon trained on the survivors, "escort the prisoners to shore."

Once the logistics of getting the survivors, including the wounded safely to shore and into Wyndham's care were taken care of, Sophie rounded up her squad.

All seven of her squad members were there, the only wound being a crossbow bolt that Feliz had taken in the shoulder, and a nasty gash on Kyle's face from some of the junk fired out of one of the scav blunderbusses.

"Second Squad, what's your status?" she asked into her mic.

She expected Linda, as commander of the squad to respond, but another woman's voice came back.

"L.T. was hit by that cannon, Cap, the rest of us are okay."

Without waiting to hear more, Sophie set off in a sprint for the seawall. Two minutes later, she lurched to a stop at the knot of people surrounding someone laid out on the rocks, the rest of First Squad right behind her.

"Linda! How is she Doc?"

"She'll survive, Cap, but that ball took her right leg off at the knee. We got a tourniquet on it right away and stopped the bleeding, but she went right back to fighting. After the cease fire she finally noticed that that damned thing hurt like crazy. I just gave her morphine, but we need to get her back to the mainland as soon as possible."

"Tiger, this is Mako," Sophie said into her handheld radio, trying to quell the panic that threatened to overwhelm her, "Can you raise that plane that was supposed to pick us up?"

Someone else started to answer but Wyndham's voice cut him off, "We've got a transmitter on the ridge, Sophie. What's up?"

"My first Lieutenant needs to get back to the mainland for medical attention. Can we land them at the old airport here?"

"Wait one."

Wyndham switched frequencies. A few moments later, he was back. "They say if we can light the runway, they can land."

"We'll light the runway," Sophie replied, "Just get them here!"

"Roger, Sophie. Look, your platoon has done its job and more. We can take care of the mop up. See you back in Phoenicia."

Sophie suddenly realized that the conversation had become personal - that Wyndham was no longer using call signs or even ranks.

"Thanks, Mark," she replied, her voice breaking, "I-I really need to get her back."

"Go," was all he said.

Sophie didn't have to issue orders. Kyle got Linda, woozy from the morphine, over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and set off at a brisk, but careful pace down the seawall. On shore, the platoon scattered out ahead, seeking the best route to the old airport through the overgrown streets of the ruined city. Machete's cleared away brush while hands pushed, threw or rolled other obstacles out of the way.

Suddenly, they came out into a freshly cleared path to find a grinning Rojas waiting for them. "The King figured this was the least they could do for you having saved their bacon."

Half a mile ahead, they caught up with the men of Ku'uaki's village, hacking away at the vegetation and moving obstacles from their path. With the two groups working together, they were able to make good time, but Sophie chafed at the delay. Suddenly, they were going even faster, and she looked up to find Wright and his people greeting the trailbreakers.

"We were late to the party, and when the Phoenician on the radio told us what was going on, we figured we'd change course and see if we couldn't speed things up a bit. We started at the runway and worked back toward you. I've got guys building bonfires along the runway. They'll light 'em as soon as they hear the plane," Wright told her as Sophie caught up with him. "From what the guy on the radio relayed to us, I'm damned glad you decided to find out what was really going on with us instead of opening up on us like you did Murphy's crowd. Man! Don't fuck with Phoenicia!"

"Murphy declared his intent when he shelled the village on the western side of the island," Sophie said, not slowing down. "If we had had the same kind of show from you, you'd be in the same boat as Murphy, so thank yourself for not hurting anybody in your raids."

Overhead, a droning sound began to grow louder, and Sophie's radio crackled to life: "Special Ops Team One, this is Eagle, over"

"Go ahead Eagle," Sophie replied, quickening her pace.

"I'm seeing some light below, but it doesn't look like a runway," the voice said. "Is that our landing zone?"

"Negative, Eagle," Sophie replied, "The runway is south of those lights and should light up momentarily."

Even as she spoke, Wright's people lit off the bonfires they had built, and Sophie was gratified to see that they didn't have far to go. Other team members had tried to take Linda from Kyle, but he refused, determined to see her safely aboard the aircraft.

Fortunately, the heavier concrete of the runway had not suffered the same fate as most of the roadways and was still mostly intact. There were some grasses and small shrubs growing in cracks here and there, but nothing that would be a problem for the rugged cargo plane. The fires provided feeble light, but it was enough, since they outlined the runway, and the SpecOps pilots knew their stuff.

The pilot taxied to the end of the concrete where First Platoon waited, catching their breath. Kyle now held Linda in his arms and she held hers around his neck. Sophie followed him up the cargo ramp, steadying him as his legs threatened to fold. Even Hell Week had not featured a run like that, carrying a teammate.

There were no seats or accommodations for passengers in the stark hold of the aircraft, but the platoon created a pallet for Linda from extra clothing, blankets, and whatever they could find, then left her alone with Kyle and Sophie as the aircraft began positioning itself for takeoff.

"I'm so sorry, baby!" Sophie told her lover guiltily, remembering how she had scoffed at the cannon as a weapon. Would she have acted more quickly if she had known it was capable of this?

"Sorry for what, Soph?" Linda asked, fighting the effects of the pain meds. "Sorry for letting me follow you to war? Sorry for making me into someone I could never have been on my own?"

"Sorry for getting you into this predicament, baby," Sophie answered softly. "Sorry for getting your leg shot off."

"Hey," Linda shrugged, clearly feeling the effects of the morphine. "That's war. Maybe I'll feel different when the morphine wears off, but I knew what could happen when I followed you to war. I've seen what happened to others, and I wash never under any il ... illu ... misconceptions about whether it could happen to me. I was mostly just worried that it would be you, instead. Kind of a relief, really."

"Well I'm going to stay with you all the way, baby," she said. "I'll take care of you."

Linda shook her head groggily, "Thatsh Kyle's job now..."

Sophie turned to look at her other friend.

"We were going to tell you when this mission was over, Soph," Kyle said softly. "Linda and I decided to get married. This soldiering thing - that's always been your thing. Linda went along because she loved you, and I went along because I loved her. We finally decided that it was time to think about having a family."

"You're leaving me too?" Sophie tried to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"You don't need me as much as Linda does, Soph," Kyle answered.

"That's not true!" Sophie cried, the sharp looks from the others telling her that her voice had risen above the noise of the plane's engines.

"Yesh it is," Linda nodded sagely. "You and me, we've always been there for eash other ... Kyle, he's alwaysh been there for me."

"It's true, Sophie," Kyle told her, "You've depended a lot on Linda, but you mostly just let me tag along. Not that I minded, since Linda went wherever you went, but while we've been friends, you never really needed me. Now Linda won't be able to be there for you, but I can still be there for her. We're honored to have been part of your adventure, but now, especially, we need to start thinking about our future. You'll do fine without us."

Sophie mulled that over, sorely tempted to slip into the morass of self-pity that threatened to engulf her, but her pragmatic side told her that what they said was true. She always made a conscious effort to see that the others were taken care of, and it was certainly convenient having her two best friends close to her, but Linda was the one she always turned to. Kyle had been a good friend, but she had always known that Linda was the main reason he was there. Both had been good friends, and the least she could do was return that friendship...

"You're right, of course," she sighed. "I will miss both of you, but you go with my best wishes. We have had some good years together."

Before they could see the tears forming in her eyes, Sophie turned away, then remembered that she had another wounded team member. She shuffled over to where Doc was bandaging Feliz' shoulder.

"How is it, Doc?" She asked.

"The damned bolt was none too clean, but it didn't hit anything vital," Doc replied. "I've flushed the wound as best I could with antibiotics, and if it doesn't get infected, he'll be okay. The problem is, I gave the last of the morphine to the Ell Tee, and Feliz is going to be in some serious hurt by the time we get to the mainland."

"Maybe I can help with that," Sophie said. She rummaged around until she found her pack, then dug down into the bottom of it to find the metal flask. She had been saving the contents in case she and Linda and Kyle had some down time, but...

"Administer for medicinal purposes only, Doc," she said, handing him the flask. "That was eighteen year old scotch before the sickness."

Feliz grimaced at her, in good spirits despite the wound. "Hey, we got something to celebrate here, Cap, so it's only right to break out the good stuff. We kicked butt on those scavs!"

"That we did, Feliz, that we did." Sophie grinned back, not really feeling like celebrating, but the platoon had performed like a well oiled machine, and despite her sorrow at losing Linda and Kyle, she couldn't let her own feelings drag them down.

She did a quick, belated headcount and found that everyone was aboard, including Rojas, who had acted as liaison with Ku'uaki's people. Sophie pitched her voice to carry above the noise of the plane's engines. This was a little easier to do now that the craft had leveled out at its cruising altitude.

"Feliz is right, Platoon!" she shouted. "You kicked butt tonight, and I'm privileged to have such a platoon! Spec Ops rocks!"

The cheer that answered her reverberated through the cargo hold, completely drowning out the noise of the engines.

Sophie looked for a place to make herself comfortable, but before she could settle in, one of the aircrew came looking for her. "You're wanted in the cockpit, Captain!"

Holding onto whatever she could find for handholds against the bucking of the aircraft, Sophie made her way forward. It was quieter in the cockpit, and the navigator relinquished his seat, offering his headset. "Radio Transmission!" He told her.

Sophie donned the headset and positioned the boom mic in front of her mouth. "Spec Ops, Team One, First Platoon here, go ahead."

"How's your lieutenant, Captain?" Wyndham's voice was barely recognizable over the engine noise.

"She'll survive, Colonel," Sophie replied, "but she won't be doing any more soldiering."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Captain. I just wanted to convey to your team my heartfelt thanks for your incredible performance on this operation. Thanks to your team, the only casualties, besides your wounded, were scavs. It could have been a whole helluva lot worse, especially if they had gotten those cannons ashore. I have to admit that I was skeptical when I learned that they were going to resurrect Special Operations, but you've made a believer out of me. Please convey my thanks to your platoon."

"Roger, Colonel. Anything else?"

"I've been in contact with Coronado and Phoenix, and made a full report. They'll probably want to debrief you when you land."

"Copy that. First Platoon out."

Returning to the cargo bay, Sophie relayed the Colonel's comments to her people, prompting another round of cheers. Mercifully, Linda was unconscious when she checked. Kyle gave her a hesitant smile but didn't get up from where he sat with Linda's head in his lap. Sophie sighed. The fact that he had not celebrated with the platoon told her more than his words: Kyle had already checked out.

Feliz was singing and waving the flask around with his good arm. He paused long enough to offer an impromptu toast.

"To th' best damn Cap'n Ph'nisha's ever seen!" he shouted, taking another drag from the flask.

To Sophie's embarrassment, that set off another round of cheering. When the cheering and back-slapping finally subsided, Sophie found a place to prop herself against the bulkhead, and lost herself in thought.

It was the changing of the sound of the engines that woke her. Most of the team were snoring away as she made her way to the cockpit, to find that it was full daylight, and the plane was descending, coming around to a south-north heading to line up with the runway on North Island.

"Better find a place to sit, Captain," the navigator told her. "These landings can get rough sometimes."

Sophie sketched a salute and returned to her bulkhead seat to find the rest of the platoon stretching and yawning.

"Are we landing, Cap?" someone asked.

"Yep," Sophie nodded. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a week since they first took off from this same airfield. Right up until last night, she had thought they were going to get back from the mission without firing a shot. Just went to show - nothing's predictable except the past.

There were vehicles waiting on the apron when the aircraft rolled to a stop. An ambulance whisked Linda and Feliz off to the infirmary. Kyle wanted to go with Linda, but Sophie reminded him that he was not medically trained, and he still had a responsibility to the platoon.

"We'll be over to check on you as soon as we can, baby," she told Linda as they loaded her into the ambulance. The tightness around her lover's mouth told Sophie that the morphine was wearing off, so she understood why Linda only nodded.

General Carson gave Sophie a ride back to headquarters where she gave him and his clerk a synopsis of the operation from the time they parachuted into the waters off Maui to the time they loaded onto the plane for the return trip. She neither emphasized nor sugar-coated Colonel Wyndham's part in allowing the people on Oahu to 'borrow' weapons, simply stating the facts.

"That's pretty much the same report I got from Colonel Wyndham," Carson nodded. He seemed to want to say something else, but couldn't decide how to word it. Finally, he said, "Colonel Wyndham says you read him the riot act about letting the civilians get possession of Phoenician weapons."

"Yes, sir," Sophie answered. She wasn't ashamed of that, but knew it could be construed as insubordination. Either way, she wasn't going to make excuses. She had done what she had done and if there were consequences, she would face them.