Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10) by A. American (best business books of all time .TXT) 📗

Mike looked at the blade, then back at Dalton, “You just gonna chop their heads off?”

“Whatever it takes to get the job done.” Mike shook his head and returned his attention to the binoculars.

“When the old man gets here and starts tossing HE rounds into them, we’ll move in. Him blasting shit with that gun will distract their attention,” Ted said.

“This is bullshit. He did this on purpose,” Mike grumbled.

“Did what?” Ted asked.

Mike waved his hand around. “This. Got me out here lying in the fucking weeds while he drives my tank up and starts blasting shit with it. Bullshit I tell you.”

We followed the old man down 441, both vehicles were being pushed to their max. I sat in the back for a long time, then decided to climb up into the turret. The truck we were in had a mark nineteen grenade launcher on it. I liked the weapon and took a few minutes to make sure it was ready to go. I was struck by the situation, sitting in the top of this truck with a weapon like this in my hands. The world was certainly getting stranger. I watched the thick column of smoke that was rising in the sky ahead of us. It made me feel good to know it was communist equipment burning this time.

The tank didn’t go up the on-ramp to the toll road. Instead, it passed under it and went up the off-ramp. In this way, we’d be on the same side of the road as the auto auction. I slapped the top cover closed on the weapon; it was ready to go, and I dipped down inside the truck. Grabbing a helmet, I pulled it on my head and strapped it to my chin. There was a good possibility of taking fire and I wanted all the protection I could get.

As we bounced down the road, my pulse began to quicken. I hated this part, the waiting for shit to start. The anticipation was always nerve racking; and in a way, I just wanted to get on with it. While at the same time, I just wanted to go home. But this had to be done and I wanted some revenge as well. I was already thinking of walking through the area and putting wounded Russian and Cuban soldiers down. Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. They weren’t just going to lie there and let me shoot ‘em.

Two minutes, Sarge said over the radio.

Leaning down, I looked at Aric. “Wake Perez up. The show’s about to start.”

“I’m awake. You can’t sleep for shit in these things,” he replied.

I looked forward and saw the turret on the tank start to swing to the left as it slowed. Thad slowed as well and soon we were just creeping along. I couldn’t see the area fully when the tank fired the first time. The blast surprised me, and I jumped as the spent casing was ejected out the rear of the gun, landing on the road with a clang.

Poking my head back up, I looked out and could now see the compound. There was an odd tracked vehicle with flames spewing from the top of it down there. I assumed it was the target of the shell just fired.

Thad, Sarge called, pull around us so Morgan can get that grenade launcher into action.

The truck jerked, and we rolled around the tank. Now, I could see the entire facility. There were people moving around down there and I swung the weapon around and fired a shot. It fell short and I adjusted and fired another. It landed close to a group of three men and they all went down. Having their range, I fired three more and watched as the grenades impacted around them, tossing them around like rags.

I was scanning for targets, looking for anyone moving and turning the mark nineteen on them. The weapon was amazing and would spit grenades with surprising speed and accuracy. We started taking some small arms fire; I could hear the rounds as they passed overhead. The cracking and popping was like that of an angry insect and I ignored it.

Aric and Thad were calling out targets for us as well. If they saw anyone move, they’d let me know. Perez was sitting in the back by the door, his carbine resting between his legs. He was smoking the short butt of a cigarette. A very short butt.

“You out of those things?” Aric asked him.

Perez looked at the stub in his fingers and nodded. Then he smiled, “But Russians like to smoke.”

Aric smiled and shook his head, “That’s why you’re here.”

“Just a side benefit,” Perez replied with a shrug.

Another armored vehicle rounded a corner. The rear doors on it swung wildly as the driver maneuvered the bulky machine. The tank thundered again, and the round missed, impacting a car. But the old man wasn’t waiting and immediately fired another. This one found its mark and blasted the turret from the machine. It rolled forward as flames shot out of every opening on it.

I saw a puff in the distance and immediately turned the weapon on it. The RPG fired from the position whistled past the tank. The gunner wouldn’t get another chance as I dropped four grenades on him.

“Aric! I need ammo!” I called down.

Aric, having cans ready with their lids removed and waiting, handed one up. I slid it into the tray and opened the top cover and got the weapon reloaded. As I was doing so, Sarge called on the radio and told us to make our way down to the compound. Aric prepared several more cans for me before moving to the rear of the truck. As we began to make our way down to the lot, he and Perez sat by the door, their carbines ready.

It took us a little maneuvering to get down into the lot. The auto auction is on a large piece of open land.