Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 3

Morning Dew

Percy and his men were called "The Easy Eight," reference to the fact it consisted of eight squads. It was attached to no other unit in the entire military and was one of several infantry groups that was hastily put together to fight the many wars facing America. Percival Tad Raymond was selected out of a large pool of candidates; the reason for his selection had to do with his infantry work before he became a commissioned officer. With four successful years under his belt as an enlisted soldier before he ever attended military academy, he was much more useful than any fresh graduate. Not to mention his incredibly successful run in the academy, graduating First Captain with honors.

Those he was assigned to lead consisted of many he had fought with previously. It helped create a bond unbreakable on the battlefield. They knew they could trust Percy. As result, they marched on with a confidence not seen in most infantry units. The situation could be desperate but the men would be steadfast.

Their amazing results shocked their commanders. Originally, they were sent overseas to merely be cannon-fodder in order to slow down enemy troops (though it would never be admitted outright). No one ever expected them to survive, much less succeed at a rapid rate. They were looked upon as the model group of soldiers and everyone hoped it could be duplicated. But the truth was most ragtag groups met with little to no success and were barely even able to fill their role as wasted lives. It was because no one else had Percy has their commander; no other group had a man so arrogant as to believe he simply could not die on the battlefield.

As a unit, they had received every medal except the Medal of Honor; they had successfully defended Istanbul, which was under attack from all sides as well as the inside; Morocco was defended; Australia and Indonesia had both received assistance when the Chinese bore down on them. They had touched every continent but South America. They were heroes.

Now they were thrown away again by their commanders. It would be impossible to fault them if they felt betrayed. No other unit had done so much in such a little amount of time. For many, they wanted to conqueror Laredo and keep it for themselves. These feelings were not kept in the dark. All night before their operation they talked openly about their situation and how they felt about it. Percy, who never slept when his men were not allotted the time, stayed with them and patiently listened to them voice their frustrations.

At 0500hours they prepared to move out, their minds not yet settled and their emotions still a bit tilted. By 0530hours they were in position; fifteen minutes later they had mentally prepared themselves for battle. They were focused. They refused to tarnish their perfect record. Laredo seemed much easier than Istanbul. The fact the Americans had yet to secure it was just proof of their slide into mediocrity.

With five minutes before their scheduled operation time, a voice crackled over their headset, "Five minutes until start."

Percy had followed Sergeant Chen but was stationed in a different location. The Sergeant and his squad were located on the ground inside an abandoned store. They could easily lean out the window and catch Prieto as his escort drove by. Percy was a block away, situated on top of a three story building. Along with Lieutenant Mackenzie, he had the ability to view Prieto as he went to the Cathedral but could also catch the community college in the distance. He had entrusted Wallace with overseeing the college ambush; the First Sergeant was there with his men, ready to move out.

"Two minutes until start."

"Major, we got some pickers and produce about to head over the Rio Grande. Should we engage?" Fleetwood reported.

Percy sighed loudly; he looked over at Mackenzie and said, "Dear God. Do they have any brains?"

"With all due respect Major, if you tell them not to fire unless fired upon, that amount of enemy troops would overwhelm us. We'd lose."

"I never said I wanted them to wait, did I?"

"Considering that's all you tell them to do, I'm surprised he bothered to ask."

Percy said nothing to her. She had a point, as that had been his words the majority of the time. Still, he knew his men had enough sense that they didn't require him to instruct them of their every move. Finally, over the radio he ordered, "Blow them to hell."

"Sir?" Fleetwood questioned.

"Blow the bridge up," he repeated.

"Major –"

"Dammit Percy!" Wallace interrupted Fleetwood. "If you blow the bridge up it'll send everyone into a panic and our mission is f****d!"

"Do it!" Percy shouted.

"One minute until start!"

At the bridge, one of Fleetwood's men asked, "What are the orders, Sarge?"

"He wants us to blow it up," Fleetwood repeated, the hesitation in his voice evident. None of his men said a word. They waited patiently for Fleetwood to say something.

Jordan had accompanied them, wanting video of the exploding bridge. Curious, he peaked out from their hiding spot – an old home, he guessed – and spotted in the distance the soldiers headed their way. He tightened the helmet that was given to him with one hand while he began to film with the other. His camera was barely the size of a wallet but could capture fantastic images. He knew that the explosion would be something for the newsreels.

"We're going in," Wallace said over the radio.

"Sergeant!"

The distortion that came over the radio after that was from Percy crushing his headset in frustration and chucking it off the roof. To most others, being a few seconds ahead of the countdown would merely be shrugged off. However, for the always precise Percy, it was an enormous nuisance.

Fleetwood wasted no time in completing his orders after that. The cue was given and his men braced for the explosion. "Get down, i***t!" one yelled at Jordan. The correspondent was pushed down just in time and he was sure happy he was forced behind cover. The ground rumbled like an earthquake and it felt as though the wall was pushed against him. Instinctively he covered his head as bits of concrete and rubble came raining down over his him. He hadn't realized they were so close.

Jordan dared to peek over the barrier only to see a pillar of smoke and dust as it rose into the sky. Hidden behind the haze was a collection of Mexican soldiers dead, injured, or just plain confused. So much destruction with a single click of a button – no matter how many times he saw it, he never got used to it.

"Alright let's move, move," Fleetwood ordered. The double "move" meant he was serious and they had better not waste another second there.

"Target in sight," Chen said over the radio.

It went unheard to Percy but he didn't have to hear the update. From his spot he could see the motorcade easing its way down the street. After the explosion it stopped for a second, as all of the drivers were unsure whether it was safe to continue. They made themselves easy targets for a good fifteen seconds before they began to creep along again. At the same time, Fleetwood and his squad hustled just behind cover on the opposite side of the street. It was miracle they weren't noticed.

Being so close to the motorcade provided Jordan with an up close view of the raid. He situated himself behind a large dumpster and dared to peak around the corner. With his camera, he was able to zoom in and snatch the very expression Prieto wore as he sat comfortably in the back of his jeep. He wanted nothing more than to capture the look of complete shock as Chen and his men initiated the raid.

However, he never got to see that happen. A loud POP echoed down the streets. Instantly, Prieto's face was covered with blood. Within the view of Jordan's camera, a body slumped over onto the Colombian General, the corner of his head blown away.

Prieto leapt up as the body fell over; Jordan did his best to follow with his camera, but it was not a second later that another shot rang out. The front of his head disappeared as the bullet exited. Based on the trajectory, Percy's men knew exactly what building the shooter was in.

Percy ripped the headset off of Mackenzie and shouted, "Where the hell are those shots coming from?!"

"You!" was the response. Naturally, Percy and Mackenzie were a little bit stunned.

"I can see the shooter," someone said. "Third floor, she's getting ready to go."

"She?"

Percy didn't hear the rest of the conversation. He shoved the headset back at Mackenzie and sprinted towards the stairs. Behind him he could hear the rattling gunfire of Chen and his squad as they moved in on the rest of the motorcade. With no hesitation or fear he pulled out his sidearm and hurried towards the sniper.

He broke open the door to third floor harshly, his speed assisting him as he body slammed it. The shooter was just turning the corner towards the stairs when Percy made his loud entrance. Immediately she turned around and opted for the otherwise unwanted elevator. The Major was able to get off a few shots at her before she disappeared again. Brazenly he followed her; as soon as he rounded the corner the pop of her side arm sent him tumbling to the ground and back around the corner.

Crouched, he dared to peek; her back was turned, a stupid move. Fortunately for her, Percy was just more interested in retrieving his hat, which had fallen off when he scrambled back. From his position he tried to assess her. Clad in urban camouflage, armed with a high powered rifle with plenty of ammo and a sidearm, he assumed she was military. But no one in the military would turn their back on the enemy.

"United States Army, drop your weapon!" a voice beside him shouted. He looked up to see that Mackenzie had made her way downstairs to assist him. Her weapon was aimed and ready to fire at the sniper's back. Still, the shooter refused to turn around.

"Don't fire," Percy ordered in a whisper.

Mackenzie twitched in annoyance but did as she was told. The elevator door slid open and the sniper casually entered. She turned to face them as the doors closed. Both the Major and the Lieutenant let out a sigh.

Chen's and Fleetwood's men all had gathered inside or around the building. So when the elevator door opened – whether the first or second floor – the U.S. Army was waiting for her. To those present it felt as though she was merely stalling her eventual capture. When the elevator door opened on the first floor, she was greeted by three armed soldiers shoving their muzzles in her face. She resigned without a fight or a sound.

Percy had rushed down the stairs with Mackenzie in tow. They arrived in time to see her surrender. The noise among his men told Percy that they were just as confused as he was. Chen brought the sniper to Percy and for the first time he got a good look at her. She was so frail, her cheeks sunken in as though she hadn't eaten or drunk in days, her eyes glazed over as though she was ready to collapse at any moment.

"Does she speak English?" he asked Chen.

"She hasn't responded to any of our commands, Major," Chen answered. "She's exhausted and injured. We have to get her medical attention."

Percy nodded in response. He would not deny her assistance, even though she had terminated their best chance at getting high-level information about the occupation of Texas. If Prieto had not been killed, they would have been able to learn all necessary information needed to remove anything not American from Texas and possibly eliminate any future threats before they appear. Now, that option was no longer available. It made his job more difficult.

"Any casualties?" he asked Chen. The Sergeant passed off the sniper to one of his men.

"None, Major," was his smiling response. "It seemed as though his escorts weren't trained very well or had little experience." Percy nodded just as a courtesy. He watched over Chen's shoulder as the sniper was escorted out of the building by a wave of soldiers. "Shall we go to aide Chevalier?"

"Hm?" Percy muttered. He hadn't heard Chen's question.

"Shall we assist the Sergeant at the college?"

Again Percy nodded. He stood silently and watched as Chen ordered the men about; within fifteen seconds the building was clear of everyone besides Percy and Mackenzie. She waited patiently for him as he silently digested the situation at hand. She knew that he was angry at Wallace for barging into the college early, even if it was only by a few seconds. Yet she also knew it wasn't the Sergeant's disrespect for the timeline that upset Percy. In fact, he had probably forgotten about that shouting match earlier.

Instead, he was afraid that he would arrive at the scene and find a botched operation. After all, they hadn't known what kind of traps were waiting for his men. Even if it went flawlessly, the chance of walking away without any casualties was very slim. Just the idea of seeing his men dead made him sick.

Finally, he turned to her. Silently, he thanked her for her understanding; she nodded to signal she accepted the thanks. With a sharp step he marched out of the building and onto the street. A jeep rested on the curb, its engine on and driver ready to race towards the college.

Once they all piled in the jeep rushed to catch up with the others. The team bolted down the roadways, weaving in and out of the debris left behind and the abandoned cars. It was a surreal sight, almost post-apocalyptic in nature. The clouded skies of the early morning only made the scene even drearier. The environment subconsciously effected Percy's men; the moment the college came into sight, the pressure felt even heavier.

The roar of gunfire was non-stop. A few bodies lay dead on the school grounds. From a distance, it was easy to tell they were not Americans. As the vehicles slammed to a halt just outside they could hear an explosion from inside. The sound sent everyone jumping out of the vehicles before they had fully stopped. Ahead of everyone and leading the charge was Percy, an easy target in his uniform.

They never bothered with strategy. Without a thought they rushed straight for the front door, which had been left open by one of the entry teams. The closer they got, the louder the piercing gunfire sounded, the clearer the shouts of soldiers got. Still, the frequency slowed steadily. Eventually, the chaos became just an intermittent noise.

Percy's boot had touched the first step towards the entrance when a familiar face emerged.

"Sergeant!"

A soldier had cried out, in both worry and relief. Wakeman was the first out of the building. His uniform was covered in dirt and blood. Over his shoulder he had slung an injured comrade. For a moment, he thought about saluting Percy, but then he realized the Major would just yell at him for such a stupid move.

"Please hurry inside. There's a lot of injured." Wakeman asked of his superior.

Percy went to step inside but was stopped by a strong hand on his arm. Angered, he turned to see who would stop him; Mackenzie gave him a stern look that reminded him it wasn't his duty to clean up. He sighed loudly, expressing his frustration and said, "You heard him, men! What are you waiting for?!"

They clicked their heels and scurried inside, their minds set on search and rescue rather than plundering. Out on the grass outside the building, Wakeman finally set down the body he had carried out. The Sergeant had collapsed onto the grass as well, his hands preventing him from falling backwards. He was exhausted, injured, and distressed. The high of battle was already wearing off.

Percy approached him. From over Wakeman's shoulder he saw that the soldier he had carried out was already dead. A bullet hole on his neck and face had been the final hits, while wounds on his chest had weakened him already. It was Private Sellers; Percy immediately felt a pang hit his chest. Despite that, his face remained unemotional.

Through heavy, shaking breath, Wakeman explained, "Sellers was the first in on the second floor, and that fucker let off a burst from behind a door. Didn't even see him. s**t, sorry Major, I tried to get him out as fast as I could. I wanted to help him. I kept talking to him, the whole time down the stairs, but he just wouldn't respond."

"You did fine, Sergeant," Percy reassured him. "To carry a brother down a flight of stairs while injured yourself is commendable. I'm proud of you."

Wakeman received several strong pats on his shoulder. Finally, he fell backwards, as the pain in his side took over whatever adrenaline he had left. The Major eased him down, the best he could offer before a medic was at Wakeman's side.

A new wave of soldiers exited the college. Injured were carried much more carefully than Sellers was, and most of them had already received basic first aid. Percy went without speaking for the most part. It wasn't until Wallace stomped out in a rage that he finally opened his mouth.

Wallace was the last to leave the building. By that time, the entire Company was positioned out onto the grass outside. He shuffled out in a huff, his finger pointed at Fleetwood before he was even within speaking distance. His finger retracted itself only when he ripped off his headset so he could speak and hear freely.

"You stupid bastard!" he yelled. "Why did you blow that bridge up?! Dammit, I could have left with a fourth of the casualties I suffered today if it wasn't for that dumbass move!"

Fleetwood responded as calmly as he could, "I did as I was ordered. We would have been –"

"We would have been fine!" Wallace interrupted. "I'd be damned to hell if I couldn't handle a few dirty wetbacks!"

"Enough!" Percy shouted. "He was just following orders. If you have a problem with something, you take it up with me during debrief, is that clear?"

Wallace didn't lose his expression, but calmly answered, "Of course, Major. I apologize, Sergeant. Thank you for the support."

"I'm sorry for your losses," Fleetwood responded.

"Our losses," someone corrected.

Percy watched over his Company as they quickly and quietly assisted each other. He had never seen them yell at each other that way. While it was true they had lost a few soldiers that day, it could have been much worse. The stress of the battles they had fought was getting to them and the uncertainty of their return home made them irritable. It made him angry that there was nothing he could do to ease their worries. No matter how many personal requests he made up the chain of command to get his men leave, they wouldn't have it.

Not even a week into his time at Laredo, Percy had already eliminated the enemy commander. Yet he knew that wouldn't be enough for his commanders. He would have to push forward.