A state of disobedience

Western Currency Facility, Fort Worth, Texas

"Well, this is certainly fucking different," muttered Pendergast into his protective mask. Another incoming shell slammed into the brick, causing him to duck behind the sand bags of the interior bunker he occupied. Bits of shattered brick and the odd piece of razor-sharp shell casing pattered the sand bags and bounced off of the concrete floor. Distantly and from behind him Pendergast heard someone cry out, "I'm hit, goddamit, I'm hit."

Pendergast turned around. Already a team of medics was carrying off the wounded trooper, leaking a trail of blood onto the concrete floor. He nodded approvingly.

A body flopped into the bunker next to Pendergast.

"Afternoon, SMaj," said Williams through his mask's "voicemitter."

"Sir."

"Have you noticed if the shelling has lightened up on this end?"

"They're firing a low rate, sir. Hard to tell if it's four guns firing really slow or two guns firing a bit faster. Why?"

"They've started blowing holes in two of the other walls, too."

"Casualties?" asked Pendergast.

"Not bad. Couple dead, half dozen wounded."

"Damn good thing we let the engineers talk us into these interior bunkers, no?"

"Oh, yes," Williams agreed.

"What's your guess, sir? Think they're going to try to hit all four walls at once?"

"Dunno. But that's what we have to prepare for."

* * *

Sawyers grunted with a grim satisfaction as a shower of displaced brick fell in a semicircle about the point of impact.

"How much longer are we supposed to prep the walls, sir?" asked his driver.

"Well, technically, Ricky, we are not supposed to prep them at all. But I'll be damned if I'll let my boys fall into another trap . . . and all it took to get this half battery of guns was throwing my weight around a bit. The Army types weren't happy with it but . . . so what? Anyway, we'll pound them until I am sure there are no working claymores on the outside and that, on the inside, the Guard is reeling with bleeding ears and noses."

"Sir, if we're not supposed to prep them . . ."

"So? Let the secretary relieve me after the building is taken. For now I am not going to get any more of my boys killed than I can avoid."

"Sounds good to me, boss."

* * *

Pendergast shrugged uncertainly. "So what are we going to do if we haven't a clue where they'll attack from or if they go after all four walls at once, sir?"

"Well . . . casualties have not been that bad so far. Even so I want to pull back as much as we can from the inner perimeter and have a big reserve for when they actually decide to go for it," answered Williams.

"Makes sense," Pendergast agreed. "But we are still going to have to keep a screen on the inner perimeter and wall and that is going to cost."

"I know," said Williams, "but there's nothing else to do for it. So select an initial guard from this area then pull the rest back to the interior."

"Wilco, sir."

Another blast shook the exterior of the building as it shook the interior of Williams' and Pendergast's bodies.

"I'll move like the wind, sir."

* * *