Slaughterhouse

SIXTEEN.

“Wizard, this is Tomcat. Over.”

Lee reached for the radio handset. Traffic was opening up on the state highway with Boston falling behind, and the column was starting to make good time. They had survived every engagement with the Klowns, though not without paying for it. He had been in contact with Sergeant Major Turner, who was overseeing the recovery operations toward the rear. Turner had sent the XO and his team on their way after reporting in that they had eighteen KIA and two wounded from the Huey attack. Lee made a mental note to buy the battalion NCO more than his share of beer when they finally made it back to Drum. Because of the sergeant major, the two Hueys that had made it past the Apaches had been splashed before they could inflict even deeper wounds on the lightfighters.

“Tomcat, this is Wizard Six. Over.”

“Wizard, Tomcat. We have a tally on the second flight of Hueys. Definitely approaching the airport, and a scout unit reports they are carrying combat troops. Over.”

Oh, hell. The cavalry unit at Worcester was there to hold the fuel supplies so the helicopters could fly in and out to refuel and rearm as necessary. Establishing that as an airhead was critical to the battalion’s continued survival, as it meant the convoy could keep moving without having to pull the fuel tankers out of formation to service the thirsty helicopters. Losing the airfield would seriously degrade the effectiveness of the battalion’s top cover.

“Roger that, Tomcat. Any estimate on when they’ll arrive? Over.”

“Wizard, Tomcat. They’ll be on station in less than four minutes. Wizard, this looks like an air assault mission—we should consider sending some support their way. Over.”

“Tomcat, this is Wizard. How many attack units do you think you’ll need? Over.”

“We have two rotating in now, but they’re low on fuel—they won’t have much station time. There’s a hotel about two miles up the road. If you can have one of the tankers pull off there, we can use the parking lot to refuel two more birds and send them in to clear the airfield and keep the cavalrymen covered. We’ll still have sufficient assets to maintain top cover for the column. Over.”

Lee considered that for a moment as he went through the maps in front of him. He had zero problem with chopping some Apaches away from the column to give the cavalry troops some close air support, but he was uneasy at fragmenting the convoy further. They’d already taken some losses, and the next phase line was still several miles away. Stopping the entire convoy was out of the question, but he’d have to leave a security element with the tanker and the helicopters to keep the Klowns off them. The fact that Fleischer’s chosen landing zone was a hotel made matters a bit more complicated. The building could potentially house dozens of Klowns, and if not, then it could have dozens of civilians in need of assistance. Try as he might, Harry Lee was finding it increasingly tough to turn his back on Americans in need. Getting to Drum was a priority, but abandoning the nation was not part of his master plan.

“Tomcat, this is Wizard. How long will you need? Over.”

“Wizard, this is Tomcat. We’ll need ten minutes to hot refuel then ten minutes to travel. Over.”

“Roger that, Tomcat. Send some of your guys ahead to secure the landing zone, and I’ll follow up with a truck of lightfighters. Once the LZ is secured, I’ll send in the tanker. Over.”

“Wizard, this is Tomcat. Roger all.”