End of Winter (Rewrite & Expansions into Book Four)

The Ugly at the End

"We were supposed to die."
"We objected to that plan."
"And substituted our own."

2/19th Special Weapons Group
Restricted Area, Alfenwehr West Germany
Winter—January, 1985
Day 12 of Repairs
Day 4 of the Second Incident
Morning

"Condor 3/67, this is Echo Five Actual, we read you. Over," Foster said. He was ducked down by the dresser.

"Status report. Over." It was still Condor, but it was a lot weaker than it had been in the mag area. It had to be one of those weird localized effects, and God only knew how long it would last.

"King, I got an idea," I said, looking around. I pulled open my TA-50 locker and pulled down the two wool blankets that were supposed to be on my bed instead of the civilian down comforter and the quilt.

"Oh lord, he's got an idea," Bomber groaned.

"We've fallen back to final rally point, are unsure of next steps. Cannot evac to safety at this time. We are flanked, we are surrounded, we are facing superior numbers. We will attempt to pull in the last remaining enemy forces with the intent of doing as much damage as possible before they take us, Condor. Over," Foster said.

"Throw me the wool blankets, fill up that mop bucket with hot water," I told him, heading back to the door. "King, bring the '60."

"What are you thinking?" Bomber asked me, scooping up all the green blankets out of his locker and Nancy's locker.

"They'll be coming after us," I said. "It's gone too far. We already saw the mountain take two of them, they're going to be out for blood, or figuring the only way they can survive is by killing us and waiting out the storm." I opened the door and looked out both ways at the dark hallway. Empty.

"Yeah, figured that out already," Bomber grouched, following me into the hallway.

"So they'll come straight down this hall." I dumped a blanket on the hallway, crossing it, and shifted the blanket with my hands to make it humped up. Sherry came out with the mop bucket steaming in the cold air. "Pour it on the blanket nice and slow."

"It'll freeze," Sherry told me.

I grinned at him. "Exactly." I turned to King. "I'm halfway down the hall. Figure 12 rooms between me and the double doors, fifteen feet per room, that's about 180 feet, so about sixty meters."

King nodded, checking the belt on the M60. He eyed the ice on the floor. "I'll get real cold real fast."

"We'll throw down our sleeping pads. That'll give you some insulation. Best we can do," Bomber offered.

"Have to work," King grunted, adjusting the sight on the M60.

I turned to Aine. "You still got those Claymores, McCullen?" I asked.

"Yes, Corporal," She said, drawing up. Her face was pale, one blood red lock of hair across her cheek.

"Go down to the end of the stairwell. Wire the door to the stairwell and the window ledge. Do a third wireup across the hallway ten feet toward us from the end of the hallway," I said. "Do you understand?"

"Roger, Corporal," She said, hurrying away.

"Double well fuses," I called after her.

She gave me a thumbs up.

The blanket was already frosting up, so I threw another blanket on it and had Sherry pour more water. Inside Foster was still telling them that we were fortifying our position and expected another attack at any moment.

Nancy was checking everyone, and yelled at Sherry for lugging the water, telling him that his ribs might not be hurting, but that was the Vicodin and the alcohol. She started packing the water, helping me pile the blankets into a large hump that was rapidly freezing. I figured that without sandbags, the hallway was a slaughterhouse waiting to happen. The blankets and ice should at least slow down the rounds that hit, maybe even stop them, since the wool blankets would provide structural integrity so that bullets wouldn't shatter it all. I'd learned that during World War II, during winter, some emplacements were made by mixing almost frozen water and sawdust together; I was hoping that the wool blankets would be a decent substitute for the sawdust. It should work, if I was remembering right.