all god's orphans

After Brian’s demonstration, all of the selected soldiers were brought into a CP tent and shown a layout of the ambush site. There were about twenty guys from the AGO and about the same number of spec-ops guys. They stood in the back having already seen the plan. The general led the presentation himself.

“All right, men.” He began. “I want to first thank you for volunteering. You’ve shown yourselves, once again, as men of integrity. I salute you.” He then turned his attention to the table on which a scale model lay. It depicted the interstate as it passed between two hills. Vehicles had been placed across the highway blocking the pass. “Here’s where we’re going to hit ’em.” He began. “When the convoy stops to remove the barricade, they will be vulnerable. The semis won’t be able to turn around and the median is too deep to cross with such heavy trucks.” There were little green toy army men stationed on both sides of the road. The general pointed at the ones on the opposite side of the highway. “This is where most of you will be.” He told them. “Once you are given the signal, you will open fire. Keep your aim low to the ground. Do not fire above the vehicles for any reason. My guys will be on the other side ready to engage once they’ve exited their vehicles. Any questions?” One of the guys Brian didn’t recognize raised his hand.

“Sir,” He said with a thick drawl. “Who are we attacking? Is it aliens? Or pod people?” Brian thought the question raised an interesting point. Exactly who were these people going around stealing medical supplies from the government? It was a good question, but aliens? Seriously? The general didn’t seem to find it unusual.

“They’re criminals, son.” He simply replied. “Now take note. These men might be masquerading as soldiers, but don’t let that fool you. They’re bad hombres and we’re going to deal with them.” Revelation Riders? Brian wondered but didn’t ask. He didn’t really care. If they had medical supplies then he was going to get them. End of story. “Where is my sharpshooter?” Asked the general.

“Here, sir.” Brian raised his hand.

“You’ll be here.” He pointed at another hillock that the convoy would pass just before hitting the barricade. His position would put him on the same side as the spec-ops guys but not directly across from the conscripts and for that he was grateful. “Do you have everything you need?” The question caught him off guard and Brian started to nod, but then an idea struck him.

“Actually, no, sir.” He said suddenly. “I still need to zero my rifle.” The general looked at him as though he were waiting for an explanation. “If my spotter and I could go find a clearing, I could do it today.” The general nodded.

“Where is your spotter?” He asked.

“Here, sir.” Wes spoke up, finally realizing what Brian had in mind.

“Very good.” Replied the general. “Get it done ASAP, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.” Brian snapped.

“We head out tonight at 2300 hours. In the meantime, get some rest.”

As soon as they were dismissed, Brian and Wes headed straight for the motor pool.

“That was quick thinking.” Wes said under his breath.

“I’m going to check on my brother.” Brian said.

“No shit.” Was all Wes felt he needed to say. Just as they reached the SUVs, Sgt. MacDunn jogged up followed by Holt. Even though they were both wearing those stupid balaclavas, he knew it was them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” MacDunn snarked.

“To zero my weapon.” Brian answered. “general’s orders.”

“You two are trouble.” Said MacDunn. “You’re taking Holt with you instead.” Brian turned back from the vehicle to look MacDunn in the eye.

“The general told me to…” He began, but MacDunn cut him off.

“The general doesn’t know you two like I do. You’re taking Holt.” Brian slammed the door and started off towards the general’s office.

“Let’s go talk to the general about it.” Brian said.

“You can’t.” MacDunn called after him. “He’s already left to oversee preparations.” Brian stopped but didn’t turn around. “You can either follow orders or I’ll put you up on charges of insubordination.” Brian’s blood was singing in his ears. Wes walked over to him and leaned in.

“Just keep it together a little while longer.” He said quietly and then headed back towards the camp. Holt stood by the driver’s side.

“I’m driving.” He informed Brian. Gritting his teeth so hard it hurt his molars, Brian climbed into the passenger side.

“Be back in one hour.” MacDunn said as Holt started the engine. Brian had never felt so helpless.

They drove to a spot not far from camp where a small glade opened up between some gently sloping hills. The clearing was about three hundred or so yards across and a thick line of trees formed a wall on the other side. Brian took a prone position with his rifle resting across his backpack and searched his scope for a suitable target. The pine trees were replete with pinecones and he selected one to zero in on. Holt stood behind him, pretending to be unimpressed.

“You think you’re such hot shit because you shot a coke bottle?” He said. Brian ignored him. “We’ll see how tough you are when they start shooting back.” Brian didn’t move a muscle. He lay still, watching the wind move through the trees and adjusting his aim accordingly. “You don’t impress me.” Holt continued. “Any faggot can shoot something that isn’t moving.” Brian still did nothing to indicate having heard Holt. He finally kicked Brian’s leg. “Did you hear me, asshole?” Without turning his head, Brian said softly.

“If you touch me again, I will kill you.” He said with all the intensity of someone remarking that they were a little bit hungry. The banality of his delivery chilled Holt to his core. “Fuck you.” He finally said, but didn’t touch Brian again.

A single shot rang out and a pinecone three hundred yards away dropped to the ground. Brian was satisfied that he was now ready to do what needed to be done. He stood up and turned to Holt.

“I’m driving back.” He informed him and Holt didn’t argue.