Von Neumann’s War

“Top’s up to form,” he murmured, as the massive NCO continued his sprint towards the rear of the column.

“Sir, we’re taking a lot of fire here,” Specialist Reynolds said nervously. “Maybe we should unass?”

“Negative,” Gries replied, glancing over his shoulder. He could see the point of third platoon, which had been almost entirely outside the ambush, heading around the side of the building. And the fire from the ambushers had already started to slack off. They were either running or being effectively suppressed by the counterfire from the infantry company. “We’ll be clear soon.”

He paused as the first sergeant switched from the left side of the street to the right, actually running into the ambush fire, and cracked open his door.

“How’s it going, Top?” Shane yelled as the NCO, who was carrying about seventy pounds in armor, weapons, water and ammo, thundered past like an Olympic sprinter.

“Cool as shit, sir!” First Sergeant Cady yelled back, his face splitting in a grin of white teeth that were startling against his skin. “I think I broke Dr. Caseaux’s arm!”

“Hoowah!” Shane yelled back. “Don’t let ’em get away, First Sergeant!”

He closed his door just as a round bounced off it, then felt the vehicle shake from a series of impacts; someone was trying to track in on the running NCO.

“Gotta lead him more,” he muttered to no one in particular as the armor on his window spalled from a direct hit, leaving the deformed 7.62 round stuck in the thick plexiglass about five inches from his head. “Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me…”

* * *

First Sergeant Cady rounded the corner of the building and got to the side door while third platoon’s point, Specialist Charles Walters, was still kicking at the door with his boot.

“Scat,” Cady said, slapping the specialist on the shoulder while his foot was in midair preparing for another kick. The slap sent the specialist stumbling to the side four feet and onto his back, but if he noticed, it wasn’t apparent; he was up on his feet again before Top had gotten in his first kick.

It only took a single kick from one of Top’s size sixteens, though, for the light wooden door to open, splintering away from its hinges and onto the floor.

“Stack up!” Sergeant Gregory shouted. The squad leader of second squad, third herd, Gregory was a relative newbie in Iraq and still worked “by the book.” The book said that the point took the door down, then the remainder of the squad “stacked,” closed up with each other to enter the room with each member of the squad having a particular area to cover on entry.

He’d never actually been in an entry with the Gazelle and wasn’t prepared for the actions of the massive first sergeant, who blocked the squad, then tossed a frag through the door.

“Back,” Cady said, waving the stack back along the left wall. He’d tossed the grenade well back and to the right, so the fragments were unlikely to penetrate the left wall. But frags were tricky; you never knew how they’d bounce. He crouched by the door with his left shoulder leaned towards it, weapon at tactical, and depended on taking any bouncers on his armor.

The grenade went off with a “crack” and there was a small secondary that blasted dust out of the door and a hole in the right wall.

“They put IEDs in the door,” Cady said, glancing over his shoulder at Gregory as he darted into the dust. “You either do a close check or you try to detonate it.”

“Got it, Top,” Gregory panted as the stack moved into the room. He knew the first sergeant had been at the front of the column when the ambush went off. How in the hell he’d suddenly appeared, the sergeant couldn’t understand. He kept doing that, just appearing out of nowhere. It was uncanny.

The room beyond was empty of anything but junk and cobwebs with an open door on the far side. That led to a narrow corridor but just beyond the door there was a staircase that led up.

“Specialist Thomas,” Gregory said, tapping the soldier directly in front of him. “Secure this location with primary direction of security…”

“Follow me, Sergeant,” Cady interjected. “Bring your squad.”

The first sergeant bounded to the first landing in two massive strides, turning to cover the top as fire started to die away upstairs.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Cady said. “You’re not getting away from the Gazelle.”

* * *

“Romeo Three-One… this is Echo Two… Five.”

Captain Gries sighed and picked up the mike.

“Johnny, this is the CO. We’re encrypted. Go plain.” The third platoon leader was a butterbar and this was only his second firefight. He tended to get flustered.

“Sir, we’ve performed entry on the side of the building,” Second Lieutenant John Crevasse said nervously. “The first sergeant entered with my second squad. First squad is in support.”